Climate Change
by BabelFish42
Summary: Jasper describes himself as “undeniably a nightmare, a monster of the grisliest kind.” How did he end up with Alice and the rest of the Cullens? What was he like before he met them?
1. Riddles in the Dark

**Disclaimer: **Twilight isn't mine. I'm not Stephanie Meyer. I'm not Tolkien come back from the dead either. They're the geniuses, and I'm only fiddling with their stuff.

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"_Voiceless it cries, mouthless mutters. Toothless it bites, wingless flutters._" Charlotte looked over at us expectantly, the moonlight accentuating her unearthly beauty. "Well?"

"Some kind of a ghost maybe?" guessed Peter, who was walking alongside her on the forest floor, taking smooth, rapid strides with his short legs. Charlotte sighed as she hopped effortlessly onto a fallen tree trunk half her height, her ankle-length skirt fluttering in the wind.

"No, Pete, not even close," she replied, keeping perfect balance as she walked down the length of the enormous fallen oak. Walking at superhuman speed, of course, as we all were.

"Think about it," she continued, leaping nimbly to the forest floor when she reached the roots of the fallen giant. "Ghosts have mouths and voices. Besides, they aren't real, and the answers to all these riddles are."

Peter considered this for a moment, his brow furrowed with concentration. When a cool breeze ruffled his light brown hair, his frown only deepened. I smiled slightly. I couldn't help it. I'd just seen the answer.

"The wind, correct?" I asked Charlotte.

Her pale face broke into gentle smile, belying the mild irritation that emanated from her. Though I had no doubt the whole point of this game was to cheer me up, Charlotte really was hoping to stump me.

"All right, then. But you won't guess this one so easily." Her maroon eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. "_It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It hides behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter._"

"You don't honestly find that difficult, do you?" I teased. "I thought you were supposed to be clever." Charlotte was rather proud of her admittance to a university before she was changed, even if she never attended.

" 'course she's clever," Peter snarled defensively. "It's hardly obvious. What on earth can't be seen or heard or sensed at all?"

I shook my head pityingly.

"Peter, look." I pointed up at the night sky, dotted with bright stars and scattered clouds. "What's behind the stars?"

"Nothing, just empty space!" he replied. "Wait… is that the answer then? Nothing?"

"It's actually darkness," Charlotte mused. "But that's not a bad answer either. Except I suppose you couldn't say that 'nothing' ends life."

"For humans at least," I muttered. That remark made Peter's concern flare up briefly, but he ignored it.

"I still say it's a much better answer than darkness," he argued playfully. "I mean, what if the moon's shining on an empty hole? It isn't full of darkness then."

"Fine," Charlotte sighed, a bit exasperated. "You can tell Mr. Tolkien he needs to change it then."

"Who?" Peter asked.

"The author of the book," she replied. "The one I read in Cincinnati, remember? You really ought to read it, you know, Jasper. And Pete, I bet you'd like it too. In fact, it'll be one of the first things I have you read when we get to New York City." Peter was not completely literate. He'd never been a very good student as a human, and after his father's death, he'd dropped out completely to devote all his time to the family farm. Unlike Charlotte and me, he had no interest in books. Charlotte, however, was determined to remedy the situation once we arrived in New York City.

"But if I did read that book of yours, wouldn't that prevent you from asking us all these riddles?" I pointed out. I decided not to add that I had little desire to read an epic adventure story about brave heroes battling evil monsters that usually intended to eat them.

"I doubt it would make a difference," Charlotte replied dryly. "You know all the answers anyway." She eyed me shrewdly. "You _haven't_ read it before, have you?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You caught me, Charlotte," I said. "Yes, I was reading _The Hobbit_ in Monterey, in between plotting strategy with Maria, babysitting unruly newborns and fighting to the death against rival covens."

"No, I suppose you haven't," she giggled, a bit nervously. My sarcastic remark had clearly drudged up a few unpleasant memories for her, but she repressed them. "In that case, try this one. _Alive without breath, cold as death-_"

"Easy!" cried Peter, determined to beat me to the answer. "A vampire!"

Charlotte shook her beautiful head, sending a ripple down her long waves of black hair.

"I wasn't finished," she replied, "_Never thirsty, ever drinking, clad in mail, never clinking_. And besides, as far as Tolkien's concerned, a vampire isn't a real answer."

"Vampires aren't real, but elves and dragons are?" I scoffed.

"I thought you hadn't read it?" Charlotte frowned.

"Just the description on the back cover," I assured her. "And is the answer a fish?"

"Yes," she admitted rather grudgingly. "Hmmm… here's one that the main character found especially hard. _This thing all things devours, birds, beasts, trees flowers. Bites iron, gnaws steel, grinds hard stones to meal. Slays kings, ruins towns, and beats high mountains down._"

"Not a very bright main character, then," said Peter, smiling triumphantly. "That's got to be time. Right?"

"Correct," Charlotte grinned at him. "And Bilbo, to his credit, was panicking a bit."

"Another debatable answer," I mused quietly. "Once again, it doesn't apply to us." _Though sometimes I wish it did_, I added silently.

"Sore loser," Peter joked. He must have noticed the dark expression on my face, though, because he was feeling worried again.

"Don't you know any riddles that aren't from that ridiculous book?" he asked Charlotte. He was still determined to distract me from my thoughts.

Charlotte considered this for a moment.

"Well," she began, "this one doesn't rhyme, but I'd still call it a riddle. Imagine you have a rope, and different parts of it burn at different speeds. So one inch might take an half an hour to burn, but the next inch might burn in less than a minute. All you know is that the entire rope will burn up in an hour if you light it at one end. You have a second rope that also will burn up in an hour, and you have a box of matches. How can you measure out fifteen minutes?"

"With a watch, of course," Peter grumbled.

"No other objects allowed," Charlotte laughed.

As Peter and I considered the question silently, our little trio reached the top of a ridge we'd been climbing. If it had been daylight, the view of the surrounding countryside would no doubt have been spectacular. Though the Appalachian Mountains were well behind us now and the trees had thinned out, we were still nowhere near civilization. We continued our trek downhill at an effortlessly fast pace.

Before long, I saw the solution.

"You take one rope and light it at both ends," I told Charlotte. "At the same time, you light the second rope at only one end. When the first rope, the one you lit at both ends, burns up, you know half an hour has passed, so you know the second rope is still going to burn for thirty minutes. Right then, you light that second rope at its other end, and from that moment it takes fifteen minutes for the flames to meet in the middle."

"Yes," Charlotte confirmed, "I rather like that one."

"Enough riddles already," grumbled Peter. "I thought we were supposed to arrive at the next town tonight. Sun'll be up soon, and still no town in sight or smell. Clouds are clearing up too."

"You're so grouchy when you're hungry," said Charlotte, rolling her eyes.

We were all beginning to feel thirsty, though. We had hunted well in a coal mining village (the mines were excellent hunting grounds, and it was child's play to make our victims look like casualties of mining accidents) but that had been nearly a week ago.

"If we don't find the town by sunrise, I suppose we can just-" Charlotte froze midsentence, suddenly very alert.

"What is it?" Peter asked, now tensed as well.

"A farm," Charlotte replied with a wide smile. "Can't you smell the livestock? It's that way, can't be more than a mile from here."

"Excellent," Peter grinned.

Following Charlotte's lead, we reached the farm in less than a minute. It wasn't especially large, consisting of only a few fenced-in pastures and a small brick house. A dirt road began in front of the farm house and stretched off into the distance, where it was soon lost to sight amid the surrounding hills.

Although the eastern horizon was only just beginning to turn grey with predawn light, there was already a soft yellow light shining through several windows on the bottom floor of the house. If I listened closely, I could hear at least two distinct heartbeats. Good. There would be enough for the three of us.

"Shall I introduce us?" Charlotte asked, flashing a seductive smile as we approached the porch.

"Ladies first," Peter replied. He was grinning as well, his teeth glistening with venom. Both of them pulsed with excited anticipation.

Charlotte knocked on the whitewashed wooden door. A moment later, we heard approaching footsteps, then the door cautiously cracked opened. The suspicious face of a grey-haired woman appeared in the space between the door and the frame. She opened her mouth angrily, then quickly bit back whatever she'd planned to say. At the sight of our faces, her suspicion melted away, replaced by strong feelings of wonder. Her mouth hung open.

_He's speechless._ The enchanting voice reverberated in the deep recesses of my mind, like a distant echo from another lifetime. I tried to suppress it.

"Good morning, ma'am," Charlotte broke the silence with her politest Southern voice. "My name is Charlotte, and these are my husband Peter and brother Jasper. We're terribly sorry to disturb you at this hour, but we're frightfully lost, and have been wandering these woods all night. Please, ma'am, may we rest on your porch for a bit? We'll be on our way again shortly."

"Nonsense, don't be ridiculous!" the woman stammered. "Here, do come inside and rest as long as you like!"

She opened the door and beckoned us in, clearly mesmerized by our inhuman beauty. I wished I could block the powerful waves of awe and excitement coming off her.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Peter said.

"Call me Ellen," she smiled a little too warmly at him, and I noticed a spark of jealous anger from Charlotte. "Here, have a seat. I'd just come down to start breakfast, shouldn't take me more than ten minutes or so to whip something up. You three must be awfully hungry! Surely you'll want to eat before heading out again."

"Yes, we'd like that very much," I agreed, my mouth already moist, "if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Ellen beamed, now bustling about a tiny kitchen while we sat around a small circular dining table. "Now where are you three headed?"

"New York City, ma'am, eventually," Charlotte replied. She stood up and approached Ellen, as though she intended to help prepare the food. Which, in a way, she did.

"Good heavens!" the woman laughed, now slicing a side of bacon. "My, you have quite a way to go! The nearest town is a good ten miles from here, though I'm sure George will be glad to show you the way."

"Ten miles?" Charlotte asked, taking another step towards Ellen. "Do you have many visitors, then?"

"No, not at all," Ellen replied cheerfully as she cut generously thick bacon strips. "No family, no neighbors, months go by before anybody has reason to come out to this old farm. But me and George, we like it that way."

"Good," Charlotte smiled. "Then no one will be suspicious."

Ellen paused. I felt her pleasant feelings shift to uneasiness. She turned to look at Charlotte, but before she could voice her question, Charlotte was latched onto the side of her throat.

Immediately, I was hit with strong emissions of shock and panic. Ellen shrieked, and tried to plunge the meat knife into Charlotte's torso. The knife ripped Charlotte's blouse, but bounced violently off her granite midriff. The sharp metal slipped out of Ellen's wrinkled hand and fell to the floor, slashing the skin of her calf as it went.

Peter and I flew out of our seats. The scent of spilt blood was maddening, overpowering! The dull ache in my throat erupted into a searing flame.

A sound to my left! Footsteps! Another heartbeat!

"Ellen!" shouted a short, balding male human as he rushed down a set of stairs into the living room adjacent to the kitchen.

The female human was almost empty now, with both Peter and Charlotte drinking from her. I turned toward the new scent.

The human grabbed a metal poker stick from the fireplace and swung it at me. He was pitifully slow, but I didn't dodge the blow. The iron pole bent when it struck me. I smiled, baring my glistening teeth.

The male human's rage turned to horror and fear. He was frozen in place, too terrified to move. His emotions hit me with much more force than the iron poker had. Still, the powerful surge of his horror was nowhere near as overwhelming as my own fiery thirst. I reached out and gently placed my hand on his neck.

There was a soft cracking sound, and his gushing emotions abruptly ceased, as if I had suddenly turned off a faucet. Unlike Charlotte, I always killed my food before eating it. I embraced the limp body, and sunk my teeth into the wrinkled skin.

Ahhhh! As I swallowed, the painful fire in my throat was extinguished.

How can I describe such a blissful sensation? I suppose it would be like sticking a burning hand into a bucket of ice, like finding water after being lost in the desert. The only difference is that our fire is quenched, not by cold, but, ironically, by heat. The taste is deliciously sweet and rich, of course, but the taste is only half the pleasure. The heat, the warmth of the hot fresh liquid sliding down your throat, is truly irresistible. As you drink, that incredible warmth spreads down to your chest and then outward, heating your whole body from the inside out.

Amazing, isn't it, how much more you appreciate something once you've lost it forever? It's impossible to fully understand just how wonderful that warm lifeblood is until you yourself become as cold as stone. This was what we craved, this was what we thirsted so painfully for; not only the taste, but the lingering warmth of blood inside our hardened bodies once again. We didn't need the blood to exist, after all. No. We needed it to feel alive.

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Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Reviewers make me very happy. Constructive criticism is welcome too. And, no, this in not a one-shot. There'll be at least several more chapters. This is my first attempt at something longer than one scene, so please let me know what you think!


	2. Prick of Remembrance

**Disclaimer:** Twilight isn't mine. Like anyone would actually believe me if I said it was.

_A/N:_ _First, to everybody who left a review, thanks! I also wanted to warn you guys that this chapter and the next one are a little angsty. I'm trying to walk a fine line here between keeping Jasper in character (which, at this point, means depressed) and keeping the story from becoming pure angst. (Blah. 100 percent emo stories leave a bad taste in my mouth.) I promise you, it gets MUCH better once Alice shows up._

_Since I wrote this story totally out of order, and most of it's finished, I'll probably post pretty frequently. But reviews might encourage me to post even faster…_

_One more thing. I'm honestly curious. Does this portrayal of Jasper work for you guys? These are just my ideas, based on what I could glean from the books and things Meyer has said in interviews, and I know other people might see him differently._

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Peter and I cleaned up the remains of our meal, while Charlotte explored the house, searching for a new blouse and a book that she could convince Peter to read. By the time he and I returned, the sun was well over the horizon, and most of last night's cloud cover was gone. We decided to spend a day or two in the farm house, especially now that we knew visitors wouldn't be a problem.

It had been a while since we had been lucky enough to stay in a fully furnished house, so I was sure my companions would enjoy a little privacy. Or as much privacy as is possible when all inhabitants have a vampire's sense of hearing. At least, this was what I told myself when I grabbed a handful of paperbacks and headed down to the cellar. Maybe the truth was that I was the one who wanted to be alone. Those two were always distracting me, trying to cheer me up. I knew they meant well, but playing along with them was a bit exhausting after a while. I wasn't used to so much lighthearted interaction. It felt… unnatural, almost.

There wasn't much in the cellar, only some dusty cardboard boxes stacked on the dirt floor, a small stash of revolting human food, and a solitary light bulb that hung from the ceiling and emitted a feeble glow when switched on. Had I been human, the pale light from the dingy bulb would not have been enough to read by, but my eyes were designed for seeing in the dark. I picked up the most promising of the novels and cracked it open.

After three pages, I realized I had no idea what I'd just read except the first couple paragraphs. So I flipped back and started over. But once again, nothing sank in. I would keep reading the same sentence over and over without absorbing a word of it. The main character was a young soldier named William, I knew that much. But I couldn't prevent my stubborn thoughts from drifting to a different soldier in a different war…

He should ride, he should ride away as fast as he can. But instead he stops his horse and dismounts. Stupid boy, pathetic human. He seems almost hypnotized by the three pale women approaching him. His blue-grey eyes widen in wonder at their beauty. He even thinks he ought to help them. Pitiful fool.

Two of the women run towards the city, moving much too fast. The third, the smallest of them, asks his name, approaches him. He should run, the idiot, he should run! But he doesn't run. He doesn't struggle. He doesn't even move as her razor-sharp teeth pierce the skin just below his left ear.

Now, far too late, he moves. Or tries to. He lets out a gasp of pain and surprise, and jerks away instinctively, but her cold white hands hold his arm and head in a vice-like grip. She swallows once, twice, her eyes closed with pleasure. He punches her with all his strength, then curses when his own bones shatter from the impact. But she doesn't budge. Instead she lifts her head away and _laughs_. The sound is as beautiful as it is terrifying.

Her hand moves too quickly to see. One second she is gripping his arm, the next second her index finger is at the base of his throat. A warm line of thick red blood has trickled down from the open wound below his ear. She slowly wipes the blood away, tracing her finger up his neck. Then she grins and sticks the bloody finger in her mouth.

"Mmmm," she purrs, "delicious."

Now he is screaming, clutching both hands to his neck. He is on fire! He is burning! He yells, and doubles over in pain. He sinks to the ground, clawing at his throat. The fire! He has to stop the fire! The girl giggles again.

"Yes, stings a bit, doesn't it?" she mocks.

But he barely hears her over the sound of his own shrieks. The fire is spreading now. It reaches his ear, his collar bone. The girl sighs and delivers a swift blow to his forehead. He collapses silently.

The pain is gone for now. But later he will awake in a dark room, bound and gagged, with the white hot pain shooting through his head, his left arm, his shoulders. This time, no one will knock him out. There will be no escaping until the fire, having consumed his whole body, finally burns out. Then he will discover he can break his bonds with ease, and the girl with the haunting smile will reappear…

I felt his concern before I heard his footsteps approaching quietly. The sensation brought me out of my memories and back to the dank cellar. I was lying on my back, both eyes closed. One arm was beneath my head, and the other was unconsciously fingering a small curved scar below my ear. I had given up on the book completely.

"So," Peter said, sitting gracefully down beside me, "how 'bout a rematch, then? Try this one. _Always moping, always sighing, always mourning, never crying, not quite living, never dying._"

I opened one eye to gaze critically at him.

"That's a horrid riddle, Peter," I replied, smiling slightly.

"All right," he grinned, "maybe so. I suppose the answer's too obvious."

"Yes, you could even say the answer's staring you in the face," I agreed. Peter chuckled, then turned suddenly serious.

"The real riddle, though," he said, "is why?"

His concern washed over me again, so I sent a wave of calm his direction.

"None of that now!" he frowned. "Nothing wrong with me, you keep those warm fuzzy feelings for yourself."

"You know perfectly well it doesn't work like that," I sighed. "And there's no reason for you and Charlotte to be unhappy on my account. You wouldn't be worried in the first place if not for my ridiculous mood swings."

"Jasper, we wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you."

We fell silent for a few moments, remembering the dark past that Peter had alluded to.

"I was sure you'd be happier here," Peter mused. " 's why I came back, you know. You put on a brave face, but I could always tell you hated it there, all the fighting. And here, sometimes you act happy, but I've a feeling it's just that: acting."

I smiled to myself. Without having any kind of talent like mine, Peter was still amazingly perceptive. He had a knack for seeing through people, understanding how they worked and even, to an extent, how they felt. It was one reason Maria had decided to keep him.

"I thought I'd be happier in the North too," I murmured. "I don't understand why I'm not."

"You need to find yourself a girl, mate," Peter snickered.

"You could always lend me Charlotte," I shot back, rolling away a split second before Peter's fist came crashing down on the spot where my head had been, leaving a small crater in the dirt floor.

"Some Southern gentleman you are!" he roared, but was unable to hide his laugh.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. If I could convince him that I was in reasonably good mood, he might leave me alone. "I'm a lady's man. Can I help it if I'm bombarded by waves of passion every time Charlotte catches my eye?"

Peter snorted at that.

"Stick to your manipulating, Jasper," he retorted. "You're a pathetic liar. No, forget that! Don't you _dare_ manipulate her or I swear I'll tear you to pieces!"

I laughed. I could only hope Charlotte wasn't eavesdropping on this particular exchange.

"Ungrateful wretch," he growled, though there wasn't any real malice coming off him. "She never even wanted you here to begin with. Nearly slapped me senseless when I mentioned going back for you."

"No doubt she was remembering how I planned to slaughter her," I sighed, my lightheartedness suddenly evaporating.

Peter's crimson eyes met mine.

"And I was remembering how you let us both escape."

We fell silent again.

"Well, defeating you would have been much too easy," I finally said, forcing a smile. "Where's the fun-"

This time, I didn't dodge his fist quickly enough. His punch landed on my shoulder with a thunderous smack. But my retaliation caught him completely off guard. In less than an instant, I had my teeth at his throat and both his arms pinned behind his back.

"I rest my case," I chuckled and released him.

"Show-off," Peter grumbled, rubbing his arm.

He felt genuinely aggravated, so I placated him a bit. He didn't seem to notice this time.

"Anyhow," he continued, changing the subject. "I've a guess 'bout those mood swings of yours. I don't need to be talented to notice you're always moodier after a meal. Indigestion, maybe?"

I didn't even try to force a laugh. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. He was absolutely right.

I struggled to find an appropriate response to Peter's observation. Thankfully, at that very moment the cellar door opened and Charlotte glided inside. She now wore a silky lavender blouse that was slightly too large for her slender figure. Though her expression was perfectly composed, I could sense she was highly irritated. Without so much as glancing at me, she dragged Peter away, alleging that she needed his input to choose a new outfit.

Alone at last, I considered what Peter had said. It was true, all right. But why?

I had always hated feeling weaker than those around me. Who doesn't? Even as a human, I had delighted in my position of authority. In Maria's coven, I relished the command she gave me over the rest of our little army.

I rolled back my sleeve, revealing the pattern of overlapping scars on my pale skin, so faint in this light that even my sensitive eyes could barely discern them.

I had fought countless battles and survived them all. Yes, I disliked the fighting. I'd been sick of it all long before Peter had returned for me. Nevertheless, I knew that I was strong, formidable, not easily overpowered. And I clung to that knowledge. I suppose, after my transformation, I desperately needed to understand what I was, who I was. I could no longer be human. But maybe I could be much more than human. I could be nearly invincible. The night I met Maria was the last night I was human, and nothing could ever change that. But at least it was in my power to ensure that fateful night was also the last time I would be weak.

And yet, each time I took another life, especially a human life, I felt all the fear and horror, terror and panic, pain and helpless rage of my victim. Against my will, I was reminded again and again of what it was like to be powerless. Again and again, I was reminded that once, I had also been helpless and terrified and in pain. I had not always been the strong predator. I had also been the defenseless prey.

Every time I killed, in my memory, I _became_ a victim again. I saw the mesmerizing faces of Maria and the others, I heard their musical voices, I felt the teeth, the icy cold hands, the fiery venom. Every time I proved my strength, I relived my weakness.

To make matters worse, I was reminded of more than my frailty. I was reminded of my… humanity.

I pushed my sleeve down again, and leaned back against the cold cellar wall.

It was so easy to distinguish between my kind and the humans. My kind was inarguably superior in every way. We were strong, they were pitifully frail. We were too fast for their sight to keep up with us, let alone their bodies. We thought quicker, spoke faster and remembered better. And they were so ridiculously fragile. Anything from a germ to a fall to a bump on the head would kill them. The two that we had hunted tonight, for example, would most likely have died within a few short years.

We were nothing like them.

_I_ was nothing like them. There were no similarities, none whatsoever.

Except… except for the torrent of emotions I felt around them. Except for the long-buried memories that those emotions brought to the surface. I should not identify with humans. Humans were weak. I wanted to go on believing that I had nothing in common with them.

But I couldn't escape the fact that once, an eternity ago, I had been one of them. I could not escape the emotions that had once been mine. And I could not escape the memories I still carried deep inside from that other life.


	3. Choice of Nightmares

**Disclaimer:** These characters all belong to Stephanie Meyer. I'm only playing with them, and I promise to return them in good condition when I'm done. I didn't write _Heart of Darkness_ either, though that's probably a good thing.

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"It was something to have at least a choice of nightmares." - _Heart of Darkness _by Joseph Conrad

--

"Finally," said Charlotte, looking out the library window as the last rays of the dying sun disappeared below the horizon. Or what little could be seen of the horizon in this concrete jungle. Charlotte loved New York City so far, with its reasonably cloudy weather and abundance of distractions. I, on the other hand, had been spending more and more nights inside empty buildings, such as the public library we were now sitting in. We had spent the sunny afternoon around a table that was hidden between overflowing bookshelves in a corner of the enormous building.

Charlotte snapped her book shut and smiled at us, showing her brilliant white teeth. "Let's go. I'm starving."

Peter stood up from our secluded table, secretly full of relief. Though he could read perfectly well by now, the dusty old volumes still bored him immensely. Not that he would ever admit this to Charlotte, of course.

"Where to tonight?" he asked. "Central Park sound good to you, Jasper?"

I kept my eyes on my book.

"You two go on," I said in a carefully casual voice. "I'm feeling more lazy than thirsty at the moment."

"Jasper," Charlotte began incredulously, "you haven't hunted since Saturday. Your eyes are getting dark. Don't try to tell us you aren't thirsty. And in a city this size, you could afford to hunt every night if you wanted. What's the problem?"

"I told you," I said evasively, "I'm honestly feeling rather lazy. And, besides, I want to finish this book."

"_Heart of Darkness_?" Charlotte said skeptically. "Wouldn't you prefer something even more depressing?"

"No thanks," I smiled, sending a little complacency in her direction. "I just finished _Hamlet, _so I thought I'd read a happy story for a change."

"Well, if you're sure," Charlotte mumbled, suddenly devoid of suspicion. Peter scowled at me, knowing exactly what I'd done.

"Wait for me outside, love, would you?" he said to Charlotte, planting a brief kiss on her forehead before she disappeared around the corner. Then he turned a disapproving gaze on me.

"I'm not an idiot, Jasper," he growled. "You can lie and manipulate all you want, but you can't hide your eyes. Why the hell are you starving yourself?"

"I'm not," I muttered angrily. "I'm fine. I don't need to eat tonight."

He scrutinized me for a long moment, arms crossed over his chest. His emotions slowly shifted from frustration to a strange mixture of confusion, concern and irritation.

"It actually bothers you, doesn't it?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're being utterly ridiculous, you know. They're just _humans_, Jasper. They'll die anyway. Look around you. The strong have always preyed on the weak. Animals kill each other, the humans kill the animals, we kill them. It's not murder, not in any of those situations. It's just survival."

I didn't reply.

"This is how the world is," Peter said harshly. "This is how it's always been and how it will always be. There's no getting around it, so you'd best accept it."

"I said I didn't need to eat tonight, Peter," I responded coldly. "And Charlotte's waiting for you."

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And speaking of her," he hissed, "has it ever occurred to you, Jasper, that if you keep this up, you might snap? How long before you're so thirsty that you attack someone on a crowded street in broad daylight? How long before you slip up, and all three of us have to answer to the Volturi?"

I winced. No, that possibility had not occurred to me.

"I'm all right," I lied, still staring at the polished wood table, as if I could hide my blackened eyes from him. "That won't happen, I swear."

Peter continued standing there, radiating anger.

"Sometimes you're too empathetic for your own good," he growled.

Then he was gone. By the end of night, so was I.

I didn't leave immediately, though. Instead I remained in the quiet library even after the humans turned off the lights and locked the building. I hadn't lied about wanting to finish my book. I'd become engrossed in the tale of distant continents, unfamiliar historical periods, and all-too-familiar scenes of cruelty. But I never could see what was so remarkable about the man named Kurtz. He was a monster draped in a threadbare cloak of civility, and his greatest accomplishment lay in recognizing that fact. Not very impressive if you asked me. I idly wondered what Marlowe would've had to say about meeting me. Assuming he lived to tell the tale, that is.

Not long after I finished reading, Peter and Charlotte returned with bright blood-red eyes. I had wanted to wait and tell them I was going before I wandered off. I felt I owed Peter that much. Though Peter assured me that I could count on them if I ever needed allies, they were both relieved to see me go. I headed west without a backward glance, leaving the sprawling metropolis far behind me before the break of dawn.

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A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. When I started writing this, I had absolutely no intention of posting it; I didn't even have an author account. Anyway, I decided to keep everything broken up the way it originally was, instead of trying to group scenes together that were better off by themselves.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! --hugs all reviewers-- Hang in there. The story is about to get a lot less gloomy.

I'm going to take a leaf of out of cachstardust's book and briefly explain what I'm referring to for those of you who don't know. Feel free to skip if you're not interested. (cachstardust gives footnotes with historical references. Go read her stuff! She puts a lot of effort into recreating the time periods for her stories.)

We read _Heart of Darkness_ my senior year. My boyfriend hated it because he thought it was the most depressing thing ever written. Even though I agree with him, I kind of liked it. I'm a little odd, though. Anyway, Marlowe talks about a 'choice of nightmares' when he has two horrible options to choose from. He can either align himself with the Company (an imperialist European-based trading company that proclaims to be moral, civilized, and altogether superior to the African 'savages,' although this is obviously not the case) or with Kurtz (who makes no effort to hide his monstrous nature and doesn't pretend to be a moral person). That was my interpretation at least. The Sparknotes website gives a good summary of the book if you want to know more._  
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	4. Philadelphia

**Disclaimer: **Estos libros no son mios. The Twilight series and all its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, not me.

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Even beneath the overcast sky, this city was much too bright. I preferred the dark, the anonymity of the shadows. Here, wandering along the sidewalks in broad daylight (well, partial daylight), I felt exposed, vulnerable almost, as if, in the sunlight, all the inhabitants of this place could see me for what I truly was. It was an irrational fear, I knew. Any human who looked my way would likely feel drawn to me, and if their instincts compelled them to keep their distance instead, I could easily erase their discomfort.

The streets grew more and more crowded as the city gradually awoke, and the dim light filtering through the heavy clouds grew a bit brighter. I could hear the rhythmic throbbing of so many heartbeats, beating more rapidly now than they had in sleep. The smell of warm, delicious blood flowing faster through the veins of the bustling humans was impossible to ignore.

Damn. I was so thirsty. I knew I should have hunted last night. I had meant to. It would certainly have been more convenient. It was much easier to snap an unsuspecting sleeper's neck and dispose of the corpse without drawing any attention. It wasn't that I couldn't hunt during the day, particularly a cloudy day like this one. Doing so would merely require a bit more effort on my part to remain inconspicuous... a bit more effort that I didn't really feel like putting forth.

So I would procrastinate and wait for nightfall. Again. Like I had yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. But I was terribly thirsty by now. I wondered if I _could_ wait another day.

_How long before you slip up?_ Peter's unanswered question echoed in my mind. Miserable as I was, I did not want a visit from Italy. I wasn't that depressed. Not yet at least.

A young woman with lovely long blond hair suddenly rounded a corner a nearly plowed into me.

" 'Scuse me, sir, I…"

I felt a wave of surprise and then wonder roll off of her. Her dark green eyes fixed on my face. She hesitated, as though she was no longer in any hurry, or had perhaps forgotten her errand entirely.

Her exquisite scent sent a flow of venom rushing to my mouth. She was deliciously delicate, with her straight butterscotch hair cascading down her shoulders, framing her soft face and her slender neck. I could see her pulse beating just beneath her throat, could hear her accelerating heartbeat.

I smiled at her.

This wouldn't be inconvenient at all. With just a few seductive words, this tasty creature would happily follow me into an empty alleyway. Or perhaps that abandoned warehouse on the next block. Yes. That would be the place. No one would hear her scream, not that she would have time to do so. I would lead her there, tear her throat out, quench my raging thirst with the hot, fresh blood that would gush-

_No_, I ordered myself. _NO._ _Wait till nightfall. You WILL wait. Not her… not again..._

I dropped my gaze to the sidewalk.

"Pardon me, ma'am," I muttered as a brushed quickly past her.

Damn it all. I needed to find a more deserted part of this crowded city, and quickly. It had been nearly two weeks now since I last hunted. I wasn't used to such intense thirst. The growing fire in my throat was almost unbearable. It would be torture to make myself wait another twelve hours. Why hadn't I just hunted last night?

But I knew exactly why.

The same reason I had waited a fortnight. The same reason I had convinced myself to wait even longer a few moments ago.

The memory from two weeks ago was still crystal clear in my mind. But so were all of my memories, unfortunately.

I had been thirsty then too, my eyes drained of all their ruby color. I only ever hunted black-eyed now. She had been fairly young, with a tantalizingly sweet smell. She found me irresistibly attractive at first, heart pounding violently in her chest, excitement and awe rippling off her mind. The ripples turned to waves of panic, of pain, of horror, as my dagger-like teeth sank into her throat. But it lasted only a split second. The instant before I snapped her neck, as she tried to push against my unyielding granite body, some small part of her seemed realize that she would not escape. Though the panic was as strong as ever, in the last few milliseconds of her life, her fear mixed with new emotions. Despair. Regret. And a deep, overwhelming sadness.

After draining her, I hadn't disposed of the body immediately, as I normally would have. Some kind of morbid curiosity had taken hold of me, I suppose. I set her gently down on the dirt floor, gazing at her cold, lifeless face. Why the sadness at the end? That was unusual. The fear and panic, I was used to, but that…

She carried no purse, but I noticed a small wallet half-concealed in the pocket of her heavy coat. I took it out and opened it. It contained a few old receipts, a stick of gum, and a very small amount of money. A piece of plastic caught my eye. It was a driver's license. Anne Marie Bolton. Born 26 years ago.

I didn't need to know this.

I was about to replace the wallet, when a small square of paper slipped out. I caught it before it could flutter to the ground. It was a photograph. A man, a woman, and two small human children, one male and one female, were all grinning at the camera. The woman in the photograph was seated in a chair, with the little male child on her lap. The photographed woman was identical to the one lying beside me on the dirt.

I fought back the memory, walking even faster down the sidewalk. It was foolish of me to speed up. No amount of distance or time would make the images fade away.

But why? Why should it bother me? She was just a human, after all. Prey. Not even my own kind. Why should I care? I was only hunting. I had done far, far worse in my long existence.

_The strong have always preyed on the weak… It's not murder_, Peter had said, and I agreed with him. I was a predator, like it or not. I was designed for this.

_This is how the world is, and how it always will be… you'd best accept it._

Peter and Charlotte hadn't understood my recent reluctance to hunt. I couldn't say I blamed them. I didn't understand it myself. My talent for deciphering emotions apparently didn't apply to my own. I didn't feel guilty, exactly. Why feel _guilt_ for simply being what I was? It was more of… sadness. An overwhelming sadness. I had never enjoyed fighting and killing, though I was certainly good at both. But now I longed for it to end. I was tired of ending lives; the lives of enemies, of unsuspecting newborns, and, yes, even the lives of mortals. Yet there was nothing I could do to change my fate... just as there had been nothing that human mother could have done to change hers. We both struggled in vain.

I shook my head to clear it. What was the matter with me?! This had to stop. If I kept _identifying_ with my _food_, I'd go mad for sure.

I decided to concentrate on my surroundings instead. There were fewer people on the streets now. Had I actually managed to find a sparsely populated area of Philadelphia?

Oh, wait. It was raining. Not only raining, but there were violent flashes of lighting and rumbles of thunder in the distance. I'd been so lost in my own head that I hadn't even noticed the change in the weather. Well. That would explain the empty streets.

I decided strolling casually around in a thunderstorm _might_ attract a little attention. I'd better find someplace to lie low for a while. I glanced around, hoping to spot a building without many humans inside, preferably an empty one.

No luck. Instead of wandering into the outskirts of the city, I had somehow ended up downtown. All this brooding really had to stop.

_CRACK!_

A jagged bolt of lightning tore across the sky, accompanied by a deafening clap of thunder, as loud as a cannon blast. The heavy storm clouds were moving in quickly, casting the city back into shadow.

A nearby diner looked like my best option. I didn't belong in any of the surrounding office buildings, and the shops were more likely to be crowded during mid-morning than the diner was. Besides, in the diner, I could at least have the privacy of my own booth. And no one would look twice at my pitch-black eyes. I would just have to ignore my raging thirst while I waited out the storm. I could do that. Then I'd find a better, emptier hideout for the rest of the day.

Stepping inside, I was assailed by the smells of coffee, French fries, burgers and other disgusting human foods. Not to mention, of course, the much more appetizing scent of several humans. But I would ignore that.

Then an entirely different scent caught my attention. I froze. There she was, in plain sight. Unnaturally pale, with spiky black hair surrounding her heart-shaped face. She was so tiny that her feet dangled from her stool without coming close to touching the floor. But I knew well that size hardly mattered. Maria had been tiny as well.

Her dark eyes met mine immediately and a sly smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. That worried me. If her presence here was a coincidence, she should have been surprised to see me walk in. Had she been waiting for me? I was sure I didn't recognize her. Could someone have sent her here? My thoughts flashed briefly to Maria again. The pixie-like vampire leapt gracefully off her stool and practically glided over to me. I tensed, preparing for an attack. I could try to use my size to my advantage. If I could only get my hands around her neck first-

Then I noticed something strange. She was _smiling_ at me. And not in a threatening way. She seemed ready to laugh, and her dark eyes sparkled with mischevious delight. And her emotions were, well, certainly not aggressive or hateful. Oddly enough, I couldn't name whatever was emanating from her. It wasn't any of the emotions I'd grown so familiar with since I was changed.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said. Her high clear voice was possibly the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

I had no idea how to react. So I simply defaulted to a polite Southern response.

"I'm sorry ma'am," I said, ducking my head.

Her smile gave way to a ringing laugh. In spite of myself, I grinned sheepishly at her.

"Uh, may I ask your name?"

"Call me Alice." She held out her tiny hand. If she was going to attack me, giving her my hand would have been a very stupid thing to do. But the possibility of that danger never crossed my mind. Without thinking, I took her hand and she shook it energetically. "Pleased to meet you, Jasper. It's about time."

I must have been gaping at her, because she laughed again.

"Come on! Let's not stand here blocking the doorway." She proceeded to pull me over to an empty booth in the farthest corner of the diner, shaking her head at the waiter who started to tentatively approach us.

"We have about half an hour until the storm lets up, then we need to get going." She was speaking too soft and quickly for any humans to overhear. "You shouldn't try waiting until nightfall to hunt, trust me. Besides, I'm hungry too. I haven't eaten all week, no thanks to you."

She grinned cheekily at me again. It was then that I noticed that her dark eyes were tainted with… gold?

"There were so many paths in this city that would have led you to me sooner, and I wanted to be waiting at the end of each one," she chatted happily on, "but you had to keep changing your mind at the last minute." From the moment I'd entered the diner, she hadn't once stopped looking at me, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from her either. Her joy was so intense that I couldn't help smiling a bit myself, in spite of my total bewilderment.

"Ma'am-"

"Alice," she corrected.

"Alice," I repeated. The name felt nice on my tongue. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't believe we've ever met."

"Well of course not." She rolled her eyes. "That's why I said I was pleased to meet you."

"Then... how did you know my name?" I asked. "Why were you waiting for me?"

"I saw you," Alice said simply.

I stared at her, uncomprehending.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"I know," she smiled. I stared at her, completely transfixed. She was breathtakingly beautiful when she smiled, even for an immortal. Alice had not let go of my hand after she pulled me away from the door, and gave she it a gentle squeeze as she continued speaking. "Let me explain."

Alice told me about her imperfect visions of possible futures. I was astounded. Of all the impressive talents I'd encountered in the past century, this one trumped them all. She had spent years wandering from place to place, trying to guess my location from the clues provided by her visions. It had proved to be a difficult task. Most of her visions weren't detailed enough to be useful, and on the rare occasion that she did manage to identify the place she had seen me, she would arrive only to discover I had already moved on.

"But-"

"I can't remember where I came from," she sighed, her smile disappearing for the first time. I froze again. She had known what I was about to ask before I finished speaking. She giggled at the shocked expression on my face.

"Sorry," she smiled. "I'll let you finish your sentences if it makes you more comfortable. But, no, I have no memories of anything human. That made it even harder to recognize all the places from my visions. And I don't know how I was changed either." She gave a brief laugh, but the sound was not infused with joy that her laughter usually contained. "I didn't even realize that I must have been human at some point, until I stumbled across others like me who were better informed than I was. I just... woke up one day, already the way I am now. Before that, there's only darkness... Do you know, your face is the first thing I can remember seeing?"

Her voice grew soft, and her eyes became distant, lost in memory. Despite all the caution I'd learned from my past, I immediately trusted this amazing creature, for reasons I couldn't explain. There was something about her perfect face, something in those sparkling eyes that drew me to her. And the emotions that flowed from her were… beyond my power to describe. It was like the very air around me had changed, becoming clean and fresh. I somehow felt that I did belong with her, that I always had.

Outside the window of the diner, the raging storm began to lessen. The violent flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder faded into the distance, like retreating armies, resolved to continue their battle elsewhere. The torrential downpour lightened to a gentle, cleansing rain.

"When I saw you," Alice continued quietly, "I knew you were looking for someone. For me. Only, you didn't realize it. So I knew I would have to find you."

Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye. When the rain ceased, Alice insisted that we hurry, because she foresaw the sun coming out soon. I followed her without a second thought.

Alice continued telling about her travels as we walked briskly through the wet streets of Philadelphia. A rainbow had appeared in the distance where the storm clouds had parted to reveal a patch of clear blue sky. The shafts of sunlight shining through the clouds had not yet reached the city, but were advancing quickly. As we boarded a city bus, Alice explained that there wasn't time to travel on foot at a human pace. I was so mesmerized by her musical voice and bell-like laughter that I didn't notice where we were going until we reached the outskirts of the city.

"Alice," I interrupted, as we stepped off the bus, "why are we leaving the city? I thought you were thirsty."

"I am," she smiled brightly. "Wolves or bears would be nice, but they're hard to come by in this area. How do you feel about deer?"

I stared at her.

"What?" How else could I respond to a statement like that?

"Deer," she laughed. "I'll show you. Haven't you noticed my eyes?"

"Of course," I smiled in return. "How could I miss them? They're beautiful. But I don't see a connection between your eyes and _deer_."

"Didn't you wonder about the color?" she inquired, highly amused.

"I assumed it was related to your unusual talent," I replied.

She shook her head.

"I can see I have some more explaining to do," she said, still grinning. Suddenly, however, she grew serious. "I've seen more than your location, you know. I've seen the expressions on your face. I've noticed how you never really smile, and I think I know part of the reason for that."

Alice had fixed her piercing gaze on me. I wondered just how much of me she was able to see with those penetrating dark eyes, tinged with gold around the edges. I felt like an open book in her hands. How much had she read? There were some chapters I wanted to keep hidden. Certain passages were sure to make her throw the book away in disgust. But what if she had already seen some of those sections? Was it even possible she knew things I'd rather hide, yet had come anyway?

"You aren't the only one I've seen in my visions," she said softly. "And I'm not the only one with strange eyes."

As we left civilization behind us, moving faster now that we were alone, Alice told me about a group of vampires who called themselves the Cullens. I couldn't quite believe everything she was saying about the 'family' she'd seen (a family, she insisted, not a coven) and their unusual way of life. Part of me was attracted to the idea, but another small part was deeply disturbed by it. That smaller part did not want to believe her, and most certainly didn't want to consider the ramifications of what she was saying. If there truly was another way to quench our thirst, if none of the hunting I had ever done had been necessary… I refused to finish that thought. In any case, it didn't seem possible to live among humans and resist them. But, while I may have doubted Alice's story, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I would follow her wherever she led me.

Perhaps I had been unknowingly searching for her all along, as she claimed. The idea made sense. I thought of my first few hours as a vampire, remembering the way I hadn't understood my own thirst in the very beginning. Before I realized what Maria had changed me into, all I had known was that my throat ached horribly. I hadn't known what I yearned for, not until I tasted it.

This was a similar kind of epiphany. It was as though all my life I had been desperately thirsty for something, something other than blood, but hadn't understood what I was feeling. Only now that I had found her (or rather, been found by her) did I finally realize what I had craved for so long. Now, at last, an unacknowledged thirst was extinguished, the ache gone.

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Really Long Author's Note:

First, thanks to everyone who's reviewed! Picture a little kid getting a puppy for Christmas. That's how happy you guys make me.

By all means, just skip this next part if you're not interested. This isn't exactly part of the story. This is more about where the story came from.

Jasper finding the picture was the very first scene that got stuck in my head and refused to go away. That was the scene that started me writing not only this fic, but everything else I've written. I think I know what probably inspired that particular scene, and I think it's a nonfictional story worth telling. Here goes.

I'm friends with this very old guy named Earl who works at the front desk of the gym on my campus. He's 83. His hearing's not what it used to be, but he loves to talk, and I'm happy to mostly just listen. Earl likes to tell stories, among other things, including a few stories from when he fought in World War II. However, as he once made clear to some curious ROTC students, he doesn't tell 'exciting war stories,' because the war wasn't like that. It was bloody and horrible. Anyway, he's told me quite a few stories I don't think I'll ever forget, and this is one of them.

He was fighting in the Pacific. Towards the end of the war, when the fighting had died down on the island where he was stationed, he wandered off on his own one day, looking around for dropped ammunition so that he could practice shooting. Somewhere on that island, he found a letter. I think it might have been in some kind of bag, but I'm not sure.

Anyway, he picked up the letter and opened it.

"I didn't understand any of the words, of course," he said, "It was all, you know, Japanese. But I did understand, I understood perfectly, what else was there. See, there was this picture inside. It was a black and white photo of this Japanese woman and two little girls, all wearing those, uh, those dresses, you know-"

"Kimonos?" I suggested.

"What? Sorry, you gotta speak up. Now, I know I don't look like it, but I'm old!" he joked, his wrinkled face breaking into a grin along his prominent laugh-line creases. As usual, he hadn't heard me the first time, so I repeated myself.

"Right, kimonos," he continued. "Beautiful people, such beautiful people. I just stared at that picture. And all I could think was 'I hope you made it home okay. I really hope you made it home.' "

Earl paused for a minute.

"You know, I think it was then that I stopped hating people in general. Now, I don't mean to brag on myself or anything, but I really just don't hate anybody. I'm a pretty easy going guy…. Young people, Rachel, young people can be so cruel sometimes. We used to call them the Japs… but after that... no. They were just people."

That story has really stuck with me. I wasn't consciously thinking about it when I wrote this, but I'm pretty sure it was swimming around in the back of my mind. Just thought I'd share. Okay, I'm shutting up now. You may proceed to the next chapter, er, as soon as I've posted it, that is. (Or you can close this page and go find something better to do, whatever you want.) I'm starting to take longer because I keep adding things. But reviews always motivate me to post new chapters faster...


	5. A Very Good Look

**Disclaimer: **I'm still not Stephanie Meyer. I still don't own these characters. I still think this is obvious.

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We remained near Philadelphia, in a small and fairly isolated house in the outskirts of the city. It felt strange to live for so long in one place, especially such a human place, but Alice insisted on it. She owned a rather extensive wardrobe ('extensive' as in she had transformed the entire second bedroom into a gigantic closet) and was reluctant to pack it all up and move it unless absolutely necessary. Besides, the back of the house conveniently faced the edge of sizable forest.

Adopting her hunting style was awkward, to say the least. Learning to recognize and track new scents was the easy part. Figuring out what to do when you found them was trickier. I was well-practiced at handling humans. But deer? Cougars? Bears? How do you know where to bite? What do you do about all that hair? How do you even maneuver a bulky carcass four times your size, let alone find a hiding place for it?

Only a couple weeks after I had walked into the diner, Alice planned a trip into the Canadian wilderness, where we managed to find a grizzly. She was right. It tasted much better than deer. We lingered for a while in a sunny clearing next to the bear, enjoying the warmth of the sun on our skin and the equally short-lived warmth of blood coursing through our veins. Alice appeared to be lost in thought, gazing into the surrounding woods. I was perfectly content to simply sit beside her and study the way the gentle breeze blew strands of short black hair across her face, and how the sunlight exploded into a rainbow of sparkling colors where it touched her skin.

"So," Alice shattered the silence with her clear soprano voice. "I've told you all there is to know about me. Now it's your turn."

"I was under the impression that you already know everything there is to know about me," I replied evasively.

Alice shook her head, sending her hair flying in the breeze.

"I don't know anything about where you came from," she responded. "Tell me."

I tensed slightly. This was not a topic I wanted to discuss. Alice noticed my hesitation.

"Please," she implored. Her bright yellow eyes were pleading with mine. "Unless you'd really rather not." I almost laughed. She spoke as if I still had a choice. There was no way I could refuse her when she looked at me that way. Besides, I would have to tell her sooner or later.

"Well," I began. "I was born in Texas in 1844. Then, when I was almost seventeen years old-"

"Wait," Alice interrupted. "What about before you were seventeen? You can't just skip over two decades like that."

"What do you mean?" I wasn't sure how to respond. Very rarely had anyone asked about my personal history in the last eight or nine decades. Not once had anyone asked for details about my human life.

"What do you think I mean?" Alice replied impatiently. "Where did you grow up? What was your family like? What did you _do_ for seventeen years?"

I stared at her for a moment, then slowly began speaking again. I decided to start with the easiest question.

"I grew up in Houston," I answered.

"I've never been to Houston," Alice said quickly. "What's it like?"

I concentrated, straining to remember my hometown. It was strange to have to struggle to recall details from the past. I was used to remembering everything, much more clearly than I often wished to.

"It was very humid there," I finally said. "That's what I remember most. Very hot, very sweaty, especially during the summers. It was a large city too, even then."

"What about your family?" Alice asked eagerly.

"I… I had a younger sister," I answered slowly. "She had beautiful blonde hair, and light blue eyes. She liked to sing."

"What was her name?" asked Alice. I paused, trying to remember. Lucy? No. What was it?

"Lettie," I remembered. "We called her Lettie. It might have been a nickname, I'm not sure. We lived with our mother and father."

"What was it like?" Alice whispered slowly.

"What was what like?" I asked gently. Alice had turned her gaze towards the forest again. Her emotions were not exactly painful, but similar… not the sharp sting of something lost, but rather the dull ache of something that had always been missing.

"Being human," she replied. I gently laid my hand on top of one of hers.

"I'm afraid I don't remember very much myself," I said softly. "It was… different." Weakness was what I most often associated with my human memories. More than anything else, I remembered how vulnerable I had been as a human. But I knew that was not the kind of answer Alice was looking for.

"Do you remember food?" Alice looked up at me suddenly, full of curiosity. I smiled at the eagerness in her expression.

"Not very well," I replied. "Except for what we ate in the army. If you could call that food."

"You can't remember anything else?" She sounded so disappointed. "Don't you remember what foods you liked?" I searched through my foggy memories again, looking for any detail that might please her.

"Cornbread," I said at last, smiling. "I loved cornbread."

"What did it taste like?" asked Alice.

"Warm," I answered. "My mother used to bake it in a black iron skillet, and it made our whole house smell wonderful. It was… sweet. It had a slightly gritty texture, not as soft as bread. If there was butter, we would spread it on the cornbread and it melted and soaked in, making it moist and even more delicious."

"Hmm," Alice murmured thoughtfully. "I guess that sounds good… What about sleep? What was it like to sleep?"

I paused, considering the question.

"Well, there isn't much to describe," I said. "I would start to feel tired and lethargic… a bit like how it feels when you've gone too long without hunting, but without the pain. I'd find a place to lie down and close my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was awake again. Time had passed without my noticing, and I felt refreshed. Sleep itself was a kind of oblivion… except when I dreamed."

"Dreamed?" Alice was puzzled.

"Yes," I explained. "Dreaming is… Sometimes, when I was asleep, I would… still think I was awake in my mind, I suppose. I would see and hear things that were only happening inside my head."

"Like a vision?" Alice interrupted.

"In a way," I replied. "But I would interact with everything around me. And usually what I dreamed about was completely absurd, only I never realized that until I woke up."

"What did you dream about?" she asked.

"I don't remember," I smiled. "But there's nothing strange about that. Humans don't usually remember their dreams after they wake up."

"What was it like to be a baby?" she continued. This time, I chuckled out loud.

"No one remembers that either," I laughed.

"Growing up, then?" Alice demanded. "What can you remember about being a child?"

I searched through the thick fog in my mind. Didn't I have any memories of being a boy? I must have gone to school, played with friends, gotten into trouble occasionally. Surely I had some memory of that…

"I'm sorry, Alice," I replied eventually. "I really don't remember." Alice fell silent for a while. I wondered if she was done with her interrogation. Probably not. There were no limits to her curiosity… or her resilience. The dull ache she had felt only a few moments ago had already been replaced by her usual sunny disposition. Suddenly her eyes lit up again.

"You said something about being in the army?" she asked, excited at the prospect of hearing more about my past. Clearly, she still had plenty of questions. I gave her a teasing smile.

"Yes," I continued. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted-" Alice swatted my arm playfully "-when I was nearly seventeen, I joined the Confederate Army."

"Why?" Alice inquired. Her simple question stopped me in my tracks. Why _had_ I wanted to join the army? The whole issue seemed so trivial now, but I knew I had felt strongly about my decision at the time.

"What do you know about the War between the States?" I asked her, trying to buy time while I sorted through my dim recollections.

"Not much," she shrugged. "I skimmed through an encyclopedia one night when I was bored out of my mind, but that was only once. I'm usually much better at finding ways to entertain myself. As I'm sure you've noticed." She winked mischievously at me. I had to laugh. I certainly couldn't argue with that; there was never a dull moment with Alice around.

"But, anyway," she went on, "that's the same as the Civil War, right? Didn't it have something to do with ending slavery?"

"That was one issue," I agreed. "But many Southerners felt the national government had no right to tell the states how they should run themselves. If we wanted slavery, that was our decision, not theirs. What did they know, or care, about our economies, our culture, our way of life? The way we saw it, we were fighting for our independence. For our homes."

"You remember politics, but you can't remember grade school?" Alice commented dryly.

"This is more knowledge than memory," I explained. "Any history textbook could tell you as much. Trying to recall how I personally felt about the conflict is a little more difficult. I think I believed in the Southern cause, but I don't remember having any strong opinions about slavery one way or the other. Slaves were a luxury; my family didn't own any. Besides, even though slavery was illegal in the North by then, blacks were hardly treated like equals there... I didn't feel any animosity towards the blacks in my city, but I suppose I did see them as an inferior group."

How strange, to think that I used to place so much importance on ethnicity… that I used to believe my race was somehow superior to others. Why had I thought that way? It seemed utterly nonsensical. Humans were all the same to me now.

"So you supported the cause…," Alice prodded.

"Yes," I answered. "And many young men were joining. I didn't want to be left out. I suppose, to my sixteen-year-old mind, the war seemed exciting."

Alice wanted to know every detail of army life, from the training to the rough accommodations to the sense of camaraderie. I was pleased to discover I could recall those years much better than the earlier parts of my human life. The sun slowly fell from its noonday position, and the shadows of the surrounding trees lengthened as I did my best to answer Alice's endless stream of questions. When I told her about my encounter with Maria, Nettie and Lucy, I worried I might feel pity from her. To my relief, I never detected that emotion. Instead, she was as affectionate as ever, and even a bit surprised.

"Is it normal for it hurt that much?" she inquired softly.

"Yes." I was a little taken aback by her question. She really didn't remember a thing, did she? "For most of us, the clearest memory we have of our human life is the pain at the end of it."

"You too?" she asked.

I nodded. "I remember that night better than any other."

I proceeded to tell her about my new life with Maria. Though I edited out the more graphic details, I was… honest. I was also hesitant at first. I craved the warmth of Alice's feelings for me; I didn't want that emotional climate to suddenly turn icy. At so many points in the story, I expected Alice to inch away from me, emitting waves of fear and revulsion. However, to my amazement, she did nothing of the sort. She said very little throughout my tale, but her emotions spoke volumes. Alice was saddened by what I told her, but not disgusted. By some miracle, the feelings emanating from her were as warm as ever, perhaps even more so.

"So I went inside a nearby diner to wait out the storm," I said at last, a smile spreading across my face for the first time since I'd spoken of meeting Maria. "And there I encountered a tiny little imp of a vampire who rushed at me like she was about to attack."

Alice snorted.

"Did you really think that?" she giggled. "Sorry. I couldn't restrain myself. And the look on your face when I said your name-" Alice dissolved into a fit of laughter before she could finish the sentence. Her amusement so contagious that I started laughing along with her.

"Oh!" Alice suddenly leapt up. "Come on, we need to get going! I want to be home by tomorrow morning."

"All right," I stood up next to her. "That shouldn't be a problem. Why the rush, though?"

"My favorite store is having a clearance sale tomorrow," she informed me. "If we don't get there early, all the best clothes will be gone."

"We?" I asked warily. "What do you mean 'we'?"

"You're coming with me of course," Alice smirked. "You're in desperate need of a new wardrobe. Of _any_ wardrobe, that is." She shook her head. "One outfit? I don't understand how you can live like that."

"Alice…" I groaned, "is that _really_ necessary? Besides, I'm not sure a crowded department store is the best place for me."

"Quit trying to make excuses!" She rolled her eyes. "We both know you'll be fine. You just had a grizzly! And it's going to be so much fun!" Her bubbly enthusiasm was beginning to rub off on me, making it difficult to remain annoyed.

"I'm not going to be able to talk my way out of this, am I?" I sighed.

"Nope," she sang out.

"Fine. We'd better get going then. I'll take care of that," I said, indicating the grizzly.

"I'll help you," she offered.

"No, you relax," I insisted. "Let me handle it."

Her eyes glazed over for few seconds, then she snorted with suppressed laughter.

"Well…" her butterscotch eyes danced with amusement. "If you insist."

I should've known better then. But, idiot that I was, I was determined to be the gentleman. I needed no help. Or so I thought. There was a particularly large oak tree just past the edge of the clearing, and a short way downhill. If I uprooted it, the bear should fit underneath. Unfortunately, I was completely at a loss when it came to actually moving the bear. It was so bulky! First I simply stared at it, trying to figure out how to get my arms around it, while Alice looked on, clearly enjoying herself.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" she taunted.

"Of course!" I answered. "Just… give me a minute."

Finally, I settled for grabbing it around the waist and draping it over my shoulder. That way, it would all be off the ground and easy to carry. Unfortunately, the stupid thing was so large that it covered most of my face, totally obscuring my vision.

"You all right over there?" Alice called. "Looks like you could use a little help."

"I'm fine Alice!" I replied in a muffled voice. Opening my mouth, which was squished against the grizzly, had been another bad idea.

"What's that?" she cackled. "Can't hear you."

_Oh yes you can_, I thought angrily, as I trudged carefully toward the tree line. _You hear me perfectly well._

I spat out a mouthful of grizzly hair.

"I said I've got it!" I yelled. My head was turned as far to the left as it would go, but I could still see through my peripheral vision…. more or less. I reached the edge of the trees and started downhill in the general direction of the giant oak I'd spotted. I could hear a number of birds perched overhead and the gurgle of a stream at the bottom of the hill. And I could still hear Alice.

"You'd better watch your step, Jasper!" she called after me. "We wouldn't want you to trip!"

I ignored her this time. I needed to concentrate on where I was going. I turned right-

-and ran headlong into a tree. It didn't hurt, of course, except for my pride. But I almost lost my grip on the bear.

"Watch out for that tree!" Alice shouted.

"Thanks for the warning," I replied tersely. "Next time try seeing it _before_ it happens!"

"Oh, I did," she sang out happily. "It was just more fun to wait and tell you afterwards!"

I growled in frustration, still stepping cautiously down the steep hill.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want my help, Jazz?" she laughed. "I really think that bear's too much for you to handle."

"Alice, for the last time, I-"

At that point, I stepped forward and discovered the ground was gone. That was when I realized there was a five-foot high drop off right in front of me. I tried to pull my foot back, but I was already plunging into empty space. A second later, I lost my balance, lost the grizzly and lost all dignity as I tumbled head over heels down the steep slope.

I probably would have been able to stop my fall, if the grizzly hadn't smacked into me as I tried to stand up, sending me sprawling again.

_Splash!_

I landed in the shallow stream.

**_Splash!_**

The grizzly landed on top of me.

I groaned as I lay facedown underwater (and under the bear), too mortified to move. Alice was never, ever going to let me forget this. If only I could pretend to be hurt. Maybe then I would get a little bit of sympathy.

I shoved the grizzly aside and sat up. Alice stood at the edge of the stream only a few feet from me, doubled over with laughter. As her emotions hit me, my humiliation vanished and I grinned at her.

"Jazz… you're… all… wet!" she gasped, struggling to speak between bursts of laughter. "You look… completely… ridiculous!"

"I meant to do that!" I protested, laughing along with her. "Getting wet was the whole idea. The water feels very refreshing."

Sudden inspiration struck me. Alice was either too busy laughing to see what I had in mind, or else didn't care.

"See for yourself!" I cried, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the water before she could react. Her eyes widened with fear as she toppled forward.

"Jasper!" she shrieked, landing face-first in the icy stream beside me. She sat up and glared at me, strands of wet hair framing her face. "What was that for?"

She splashed a jet of water at me.

"Well, you knew I was going to end up in the stream, didn't you?" I chuckled, still feeding off the happiness that she was feeling but managing to keep out of her expression. "You wanted me to get all wet. I was just returning the favor."

I stood up and offered Alice my hand. She took it, no longer able to stop herself from smiling, and I pulled her to her feet.

"If I remember correctly," she said with mock anger, "_you_ were the one who insisted you could handle the bear all by yourself. _You_ said you didn't need me."

"And I was wrong," I replied quietly. I leaned down and kissed the pout away from her lips. "I have _always_ needed you. I only wish I had realized it much sooner."

"So do I," Alice smiled. "It took you long enough. But you were worth waiting for."

She reached up and pulled my face back down towards hers.

"I thought you were in a hurry to get to that clearance sale," I murmured, my lips brushing against hers.

"It can wait," she whispered back. We both fell silent after that, our lips engaged in other activities. As I pulled her tiny body tightly against mine, I remembered the way Alice had stared at me in the diner, as if she couldn't quite believe I was real. Maybe I was beginning to understand how she had felt. It was a good thing that I could no longer sleep, I decided. Otherwise, how could I ever convince myself that the amazing creature in my arms was more than a dream?

The late afternoon sun was nearing the horizon by the time Alice and I trudged back up the hill, lugging the grizzly between us. Though I could see perfectly well now without the gigantic fur ball in my face, Alice made a point of repeatedly telling me to watch my step. As we were replacing the giant oak tree to cover the bear, I noticed Alice staring intently at me.

"What is it?" I teased her. "Do I have fur stuck in my teeth?"

"No," she giggled. I made a mental note of her reaction to the joke; I was determined to discover every single way I could make her laugh. I lived to hear that sound.

"It's nothing," she said, her flawless features slowly breaking into a smile She stepped towards me, and reached up to brush a lock of blond hair out of my face. "It's just that… your eyes. They're beginning to match your hair. It's a very good look for you."

"I'm very pleased with the change myself," I said sincerely. I lifted her hand to my lips and softly kissed it. "It's an enormous improvement. Thank you for making it possible."

The painful fire in my throat was never completely satiated by the blood we drank together, of course. But I didn't mind. In fact, I would gladly give up much more if she ever asked. Alice made me full and whole, in ways that nothing else ever could. Compared to my longing for her, all other desires were trivial. As much as I still craved it, the deliciously warm lifeblood of humans could only offer me a fleeting sensation of being alive again. A cheap imitation. Alice made me feel truly alive, for the first time in longer than I cared to remember. She had taught me to enjoy sunlight and genuine laughter again. She had revived parts of me that I thought were dead forever.

Because of her, not only was I more alive than I had ever been, but, for the first time since my transformation, I had a reason to want to live.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I would really love to hear what you thought of it…

I won't post the next chapter for at least a week. For one thing, I'm sure everybody will be busy reading Breaking Dawn. For another thing, I have three finals the first week of August, and I really want to pass them. I also really want to read BD. So for the next week, most of my free time will be devoted to either studying (if I'm being uncharacteristically responsible) or, more likely, reading BD while berating myself for not studying. Either way, I won't be posting the next chapter before Thursday the 7th at the earliest. Enjoy Breaking Dawn!!


	6. Roads Taken

**Disclaimer:** Twilight and its fascinating characters don't belong to me. Many thanks to the amazing Stephanie Meyer for letting me play with them.

* * *

"You're going to love this, trust me," Alice said, grinning mischievously as we raced through the woods.

The shafts of sunlight that pierced the thick green canopy overhead exploded into a rainbow of color as they flashed across her alabaster skin. Daylight didn't make me uncomfortable anymore; I enjoyed seeing the light sparkle on Alice too much to be bothered by the way it illuminated my own scarred skin. A cloud bank was rolling in quickly, and Alice was sure it would soon block out the sun. Of course, I didn't know whether we would need the cloud cover or not, because I had no idea what we were doing.

"This is really not fair," I complained playfully. "Since I can't possibly keep anything a secret from you, you shouldn't be allowed to hide things from me. Won't you _please_ explain where we're going?"

"But that would spoil the surprise!" Alice replied gleefully.

I sighed with mock despair, resigning myself to whatever she had in mind. The truth was, I was thrilled to see her so happy. Alice was like a fountain overflowing with joy, saturating me with the emotion as well when I was near her. I could care less about our destination. If whatever we were doing made her this light-hearted, I welcomed it.

Alice suddenly came to a halt. A few yards in front of us, the trees gave way to a deserted parking lot sitting behind what appeared to be an abandoned building. I could hear the rumble of cars on a highway and other sounds of civilization close by.

"Wait here," she commanded, placing a gentle hand on my arm. Her eyes glazed over briefly, as she scanned possible futures. "You'll be fine if you don't go anywhere."

By fine, she meant alone. No humans would walk this way in the next… however many minutes she planned to disappear for. In the past two years since Alice had found me, I hadn't once attacked a human. But there had been a number of very close calls. Alice's foresight, not my willpower, was the main reason for my success so far.

"I won't be gone long," she assured me. After planting a brief kiss on my cheek, she darted across the parking lot and vanished around the corner of the building. I watched her go, smiling at the way the skirt of her adorable blue swing dress swished back and forth as she walked.

With a contented sigh, I let my thoughts linger on Alice while I waited for her return. From the very beginning, there had never been any question of how we felt about each other. We simply belonged together. This was so obvious that neither of us ever felt compelled to say it; her ability to see the future and my ability to feel her emotions allowed us to know exactly what kind of relationship we had, without us ever discussing it. Still, even though it may have been perfectly clear to both of us that we belonged with each other, her presence never ceased to amaze me. What had I ever done to deserve her?

Time flew by quickly while I was lost in though. Suddenly, a small black car with tinted windows turned into the parking lot. I tensed. The vehicle was heading towards the woods, to the exact spot where I stood, as if they could see me behind the trees. Hadn't Alice said I would be alone while she was gone? And how could anyone possibly know to find me here?

Then the driver's side window rolled down, and I instantly relaxed. Alice's elfin face smiled at me through the window while her tiny hands gripped the steering wheel.

"Come on!" she called out. I strode across the empty lot and hopped in the car, trying to hide my confusion. This was the surprise? Why would Alice bring back a car?

"Do you like it?" she asked eagerly as we rounded the rounded the corner of the abandoned building. "It was the cheapest rental they had. I know the inside isn't much to look at, but it can go fast."

"It's…" I began. The upholstery on the interior of the car was torn in several places, and covered with dark, unidentifiable stains in several others. There was also a gaping hole in the dashboard where, as I later learned, a radio had once been. "It's a little unusual. But what would you want a car for?"

"Two reasons," she answered. "First, we're leaving. This time we definitely aren't coming back, so I want to bring a few things." Alice turned to face me. Her voice became soft and quiet, but the intensity of her happiness was incredible.

"Jasper," she said quietly, a huge smile stretched across her, "I've found them!"

Ah, so that was the reason for her excitement today. It wasn't the car after all. Alice had finally located her group of yellow-eyed vampires. She'd had visions of them before, of course, but the details were always frustratingly vague and unhelpful. Sometimes we tried to guess their location. We had traveled to various cities around the country, searching for the places Alice had seen, but never with any success. After two years of fruitless searching, I was beginning to fully appreciate all the effort Alice must have put into locating me.

"Where are they?" I asked.

"Hoquiam, in the Washington Peninsula," she answered proudly.

"And you're sure this time?"

"Completely. I saw a sign," Alice explained. Then her eyes lit up as a wave of pure joy rolled off of her. "And I saw us introducing ourselves… Jasper, we're finally going home!"

I returned her radiant smile with a small one of my own. I still had my doubts about these Cullens who, according to Alice, not only abstained from humans but actually lived among them. But I wasn't about to say something that would wipe that beautiful smile off her face.

"So what's your second reason?" I inquired. Alice's radiant smile changed into a sly grin.

"You never mentioned anything about driving before you met me," she said. "You've never driven before, have you?"

"No," I agreed, "why would I want to? Running is faster and more convenient."

"In that case, you're going to need to practice," Alice grinned. "You might be driving us to school in Hoquiam."

"Alice…" I began. I hoped she wasn't serious. "Me? Driving? Going to school?"

"I promise you'll love it," she assured me. "Well, the driving at least."

Somehow I doubted that. How could driving a human car be better than racing through the wilderness on my own two feet, flying faster than the wind? Alice and I always travelled on foot. It was easier to avoid humans that way, and quicker since we could travel in a straight line to our destination. Alice had mentioned using cars a few times before she found me in Philadelphia, but I'd assumed she only needed them to transport luggage. It had never occurred to me she might find driving enjoyable.

Once we reached our tiny house, it only took Alice a few minute to cram everything she wanted to take with her into a couple of worn-out suitcases. Until now, we had always returned to this secluded house after venturing off in search of the Cullen clan. Having a permanent residence was more comfortable than wandering around as nomads, and it was simply easier to stick with one address for at least a few years. Fortunately, money was not an overwhelming problem with Alice around.

"Remember when I asked how you had the money to pay for all this?" I asked as we loaded the overstuffed suitcases into the trunk of the car.

Alice laughed. Another success. I mentally added bringing up this story to my lengthy list of ways to elicit her bell-like laughter.

"Of course!" she grinned. "And when I said 'horse races,' you stared at me like I told you I'd published an autobiography, totally confused. Then you asked-"

"You mean you race horses?" I finished, and we both laughed at the memory, my voice mingling harmoniously with hers. It was amazing how much more I laughed around her. Even the smallest things seemed amusing.

"Can you really blame me, though?" I asked. "I still think it's completely ridiculous that you can make that much money by betting on a simple horse race."

"Honestly, Jasper," she replied, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "Our family is going to think that it's you, not me, who doesn't remember anything human. How can you be so out of touch?"

The truth was I'd never felt any desire to stay in touch with the human world, the way Alice seemed to. Until now, I had tried to disconnect myself from it. But I didn't say any of this to Alice as she shut the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat.

"At least I'll know how to drive." I muttered. I took a deep breath, and slid into the driver's seat beside her. "Though I still don't see the appeal."

"Quit worrying," Alice said. "It's easy! I'll tell you what to do."

After she explained the basics, I started the ignition and drove us slowly down the street. This wasn't so bad. It was nowhere near as exhilarating as running, of course, but I liked the way the vehicle responded perfectly when I turned the steering wheel. I smiled. I was in complete control of this piece of metal. It was a good feeling.

"You can step on the gas, you know," Alice chuckled. "You're going thirty miles below the speed limit."

I pressed down on a pedal, and the car jolted to a stop.

"That would be the brake," Alice grinned. "Try the _other_ pedal."

I did as I was told, and the car shot off down the little two lane road. Oh yes. This wasn't bad at all. I pressed the gas down even further, and laughed when the trees on the sides of the road melted into a continuous green blur.

"See?" Alice said smugly. "I told you you'd like it."

"You were wrong," I grinned, looking over at her. "I don't like this. I love it."

When we came to a small town, Alice insisted I slow down. I grudgingly lifted my foot off the petal and rested it on the floor of the car.

"See that traffic light ahead?" Alice asked. "The red light means stop."

"I do know that much," I said.

"Just checking," she smiled. Then she glanced down and noticed my foot resting on the floor mat. "Um, Jasper? Do you know that the car won't stop completely unless you brake?"

"Oh," I muttered. So that was why we were still zooming towards the intersection. I lifted my foot and pressed it down on the brake. The engine roared and the car sped up even more! We zoomed through the red light at roughly sixty miles an hour. Another car on the intersecting street skidded to a stop, well out of harm's way, and blared its horn at us.

Well, I'd _thought_ I was pressing the brake.

"I said BRAKE!" Alice yelled. "The big pedal is the brake, the small one is the gas! Is that really too hard for you to understand?!"

"Sorry," I muttered, quickly stepping on the brake instead. "I think I've got it now." I turned and smiled at her. "But you have to admit, that _was_ kind of fun."

Alice let off a low growl. "You're lucky there was nobody else already in that intersection."

"It won't happen again," I amended, trying and failing to hide my smile. "Which way do I go now?"

Following Alice's directions, we quickly passed through most of the Philadelphia suburbs. While she was studying the map, trying to decide which highways to take, I approached yet another intersection. There was a stop sign at this one, so I hit the brake. The real brake this time. But I wasn't sure which way to turn. Should I go straight? But we needed to head west… Finally, I made a split second decision.

The instant before I turned the steering wheel, Alice cried out, "No, don't!!"

But it was too late. I'd already made a right turn onto the narrow road.

"What's wrong?" I asked, turning to look at her as I automatically stepped on the gas.

"Jasper, this is a one way street, didn't you see the sign?!" she gasped, words spilling out at a hundred miles an hour. "And you're going the _wrong way!_"

Just then, a battered old pick-up truck materialized not more than fifty yards ahead of us. Of course, it only seemed to appear so suddenly because I was driving twice the speed limit. And because the truck was heading _towards_ us.

Quick as lightning, Alice unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed the wheel and spun it hard to the left with one hand, leaned down, grabbed my foot with her other hand, and slammed it against what must have been the brake pedal.

**_SCREEEEEEEEECH!!_**

The car skidded off the road and squealed to a stop on the thankfully deserted side walk.

The driver of the ancient white pick-up honked furiously at us, and I distinctly heard him yell something about 'crazy reckless teenage drivers.'

"That's it," Alice fumed, hopping out of the car and appearing almost instantaneously at my door. "Hand over the keys. I'm driving."

"But it's not like we were in danger," I protested. I was really enjoying being behind the wheel.

"No, but how are we supposed to get across the country with all this stuff if you wreck the car before we've even left Pennsylvania?" she demanded. "Besides, that human wouldn't have walked away from a head-on collision, not at the speed you were going."

I gave up the driver's seat, very reluctantly. With Alice behind the wheel, we set off on a narrow highway, soon leaving the city far behind us.

"Oh, don't worry," Alice said several minutes later, once most of her irritation had evaporated. "You'll have plenty of chances to drive when we get to Hoquiam. You look… about the same age as Emmett, and definitely a little older than Edward and Rosalie. You should get driving privileges. Unless you total something. Rosalie would kill you for that."

I groaned inwardly. There she was, talking about the Cullens again. Why did she have to be so set on finding them?

"Alice," I began hesitantly, running my hand through my hair. "I'm really not sure I can do this."

"Why not?" she asked. "You've kept to this diet pretty well for two years now."

"That's not what I meant," I replied. "You say they… live among humans? Pretend to _be _human? What exactly are we going to do? Get jobs? Go to school?"

"Don't tell me you're worried about high school," she teased. "I promise not to let anyone pick on you for being a know-it-all. Anybody who bullies you will have to answer to me."

"Because you look so intimidating," I replied, smiling at her tiny figure. "What would you do? Threaten to drag them off for a marathon shopping spree?"

"Only if you agreed to drive us," she shot back. "Now _that _would really scare them."

"Very funny," I said, grinning in spite of myself. "I do have excellent reflexes. They'd be perfectly all right."

"This from someone who mixes up the brake and the gas, ignores traffic lights and turns the wrong way onto one way streets?" Alice was incredulous.

"I'm getting better," I protested.

"Sure you are," she said dryly. "You've mastered the fine art of speeding, I guess."

I had to laugh. My cheerfulness was short-lived, though.

"I _am_ worried about high school," I continued. "But I'm not the one you'll need to protect."

"You'll do fine," she insisted.

"Will I?" I looked at her. I was mostly glad to feel confidence coming from her instead of anxiety or pity, but I needed to make sure she understood. "You said yourself that, even without a memory, you know more about human things than I do. You honestly think I can pass for a human adolescent?"

"That pickup truck driver seemed pretty convinced," she teased. "What was it he called you? Crazy reckless teenage driver?"

"He's right about the crazy part," I muttered. "Reckless too. How can you be so sure this is going to work? Alice, I'm not as… strong as you are. Not nearly as good at resisting. Why flirt with disaster?"

"I think you underestimate yourself," she responded.

"I think you overestimate my self-control," I replied.

"I won't force you to do this," she said quietly. "And I don't want you doing this just to make me happy if you're going to be miserable."

"How could I ever be miserable around you?" I asked with a soft laugh. I reached over and gently brushed away an unruly spike of hair that had fallen into her face, tucking the soft black strands behind her ear. "Whatever pleases you makes me happy."

"No distracting the driver," she replied faintly. A second later, though, her dazed expression was replaced by a very serious one. "Tell me something, Jazz. Are you really doing this, _all_ of this, just for me?"

I paused to consider her question. I thought of the past two sunlit years, and of all the dark decades that had come before. It was difficult to imagine this new lifestyle without Alice; the two were so completely connected in my mind. But, now that I knew this kind of existence was possible, would I ever go back to my old habits if Alice was… I hated to even think the word…. gone?

"Yes and no," I answered at last, speaking slowly and carefully. "You are the main reason. And if I thought I could make you happy or protect you by acting otherwise, I wouldn't think twice about… about doing anything for you. But, when I remember what my world was like before you found me…. I don't want to go back to that."

I paused, gauging her reaction. Alice waited patiently for me to continue, radiating as much tenderness toward me as ever. Nothing I ever said or did seemed to faze her. Yes, she could be irritated and worried and confused at times. But, regardless of any other emotions she might be feeling, her love never lessened for a second.

"I don't want to go back," I repeated with a sigh. I gazed out the window, looking at the surrounding trees and hillsides without really seeing them. "The problem is, hundred-year-old habits die hard. I don't want to give into those desires, but they're still so much a part of me. Sometimes the only way I can stop myself is to think of you. And if I didn't have the added incentive of pleasing you… I'm not entirely sure how long I could make myself live this way."

I looked over at her again. She amazed me in so many ways, not the least of which was her self-discipline. Ever since she'd seen Carlisle and his family, she'd made an effort to resist humans, even as a newborn. I had spent a lot of time around newborns. Her record wasn't perfect, but the fact that she could withstand that kind of thirst at all was incredible.

"That doesn't disgust you," I marveled.

"What?" she asked sharply. "_What_ doesn't disgust me?"

"That I'm… weaker than you, weaker than those five others you see," I replied heavily.

"Oh, Jazz," she sighed. "No. Of course not. But you're capable of more than you give yourself credit for. You can do this." She winked and tapped a finger to her head. "I don't just think that. I know it."

"Every vision you've seen?" I asked skeptically. "Every possible future shows me in complete control of myself, perfectly harmless?"

She kept her eyes carefully on the road. Her emotional shift had already answered my question.

"I only said it was possible," she replied quietly.

Neither of us spoke for a while after that. Outside the sky grew darker as the green countryside flashed by. There seemed to be a storm brewing ahead of us in the west.

Alice's mostly clean record I could accept. She was already so extraordinary in my eyes. But five others? Five others who had all rejected the lifestyle that I'd embraced without question?

I didn't want to believe it was possible. I wanted- no, I _needed_ to believe that I'd never had a choice once Maria found me. I was a victim of circumstances beyond my control. That was my excuse. I had been told that this was how the world was, and for decades I'd believed it. Then Alice had shown me another way, and now I needed a new excuse: no one ever told me I had options. Alice, of course, had her visions to guide her, so she hadn't been in the same situation as me. But what of these other five? Were all five of them explicitly given a choice between drinking from animals and… and murder? I doubted it. Even if there had been someone to reveal a less violent way of life to them, somewhere along the line somebody must have discovered that higher road all on their own.

I needed to believe that anyone in my situation would have acted the same way I did; it would be so much easier to live with myself if I could blame others, blame outside events, blame my luck, blame anything or anyone besides myself for my actions. Unfortunately, that sort of rationalization fell apart in the face of others who _had_ been in my situation yet still managed to respond differently. If they'd had a choice… then so had I. I may have been pointed in the wrong direction, given a shove down the wrong road, but ultimately… I had chosen where to go. I was responsible for every decision I had made. For every life I had taken.

I rejected that thought immediately. No. No, my situation had been different. Somehow. Maybe these others were simply capable of more self-discipline than I was. Maybe they'd had a different upbringing. The road I had taken was the natural one, after all. It was inevitable. What choice did I have?

"It took me a while to figure out my visions, you know," Alice began thoughtfully, suddenly breaking the silence. "In the beginning, I mean. Once I realized I was seeing the future, I thought that _everything_ I saw was going to come true." She smiled briefly at some memory. "But before too long, I discovered something else."

Alice turned away from the road to look me in eye.

"Nothing is inevitable," she said, her voice quiet but forceful. "The future is never set in stone. Well, things like the weather might be, but not events that depend on people's choices. And some things have to be believed in before they can happen."

She glanced back towards the highway. Enormous thunderclouds now loomed in the distance, occasionally lit by flashes of lightning from within. With our sensitive ears, we could already hear the ominous cannon booms of thunder. Soon we'd be in the midst of the storm.

"Like meeting you in that diner, for example," Alice continued. "I could have foreseen that a thousand times. But it never would have happened if I hadn't set out to make it happen."

"So you're saying all I need to do is think positive thoughts?" I asked wryly. "Alice, this… isn't something I can just will away. The thirst is part of me. So is my difficulty resisting it."

"I'm only saying you should have a little more faith," she replied gently. "You think I overestimate you? Well, I don't. I've seen what _can_ happen. I've seen how much you could change, even more than you already have. But Jazz, that may only be possible once _you_ decide that it's possible."

We fell silent again.

Nothing is inevitable… that was a disturbing thought. A hopeful thought, yes, but a horrifying one as well. If there was always a choice, then there was hope for the future. If there was always a choice, then there was no excuse for the past.

The first of the advancing raindrops began to beat down on the hood of the car as a jagged bolt of lightning tore across the sky.

"Do you want to go this way?" Alice asked. "We don't have to. I'll turn around if you want."

I paused to consider the question. She was offering me a way out. Did I want to take it? I looked over to where she sat with both hands on the steering wheel and a concerned expression on her face. Alice had known how to find me in a storm like this one. She had known where to go and what to do so many times before. She'd even known I would like driving, I remembered with a smile. If she thought we should be on this road, then maybe I should trust her.

"You promised I could drive again when we get to Washington, right?" I smiled.

"Yes," Alice grinned. "But I think I might let someone else teach you."

"Then let's go," I replied. "I'm looking forward to being back in the driver's seat." I looked out at the winding highway ahead of us. "I like being able to decide which roads to take."

"Glad to hear it," Alice replied softly. Then a broad grin lit up her face. "Just keep an eye out for those one-way street signs."

* * *

A/N: Wow, that turned out to be a long chapter. Thanks for reading! By now I'm sure you know how much I'd love to hear what you thought. To all of you who've left reviews, thank you so much! You guys are awesome.

I should probably warn you that there's only one more chapter left to be posted. It should be up soon, but as always, reviews encourage me to write faster…


	7. Homecoming

**Disclaimer:** I'm a little tempted to say I am Stephanie, just to see what would happen…. But, sadly, I am not Mrs. Meyer. Twilight isn't mine and never will be.

A/N: Here it is. The last update. I know, very sad. I made it extra long for you guys! Does that make you at least a little less disappointed? What if I tell you that I was originally going to stop at chapter 4?

To all of you who've stuck with this story, and especially all of you who've taken the time to leave reviews, I can't thank you enough. You guys are beyond awesome.

* * *

We kept driving throughout the day and on into the night. It didn't take us very long to reach Washington. In fact, even taking into account the fact that we only stopped for gas, we made exceptionally good time.

"Don't you think it's a bit hypocritical of you to criticize _me_ for ignoring speed limits?" I asked as we pulled off the interstate into Hoquiam a couple hours before sunrise. "That speedometer has hovered around a hundred miles an hour for almost this entire trip."

"Speed limits don't apply to me," Alice replied, flashing me a mischievous grin. "I'm precognitive, remember? There are only two reasons to obey speed limits: avoiding accidents with other cars, and avoiding tickets from police. Since I can see both coming, why bother slowing down unless I have to?"

I laughed. I was beginning to feel almost excited as we drew closer to our destination. It was hard _not_ to feel optimistic around Alice, who was more thrilled than I'd ever seen her. However, some of my own eagerness melted away when I realized that Alice had no intention of waiting for the sun to come up before we introduced ourselves.

"Alice," I began tentatively. "Are you sure about this? Do we really want to surprise them in the middle of the night?"

"We're going to surprise them regardless," Alice said dismissively.

She had rolled down the windows now, and the cool evening breeze was blowing her moonlit hair across her face. Looking at her tiny body, I began to feel even more uneasy. Alice was the only vampire I'd ever encountered who hadn't been immediately wary of me. I couldn't help thinking that, if there was some misunderstanding with the Cullens, the two of us would be outnumbered. And Alice looked like an easy target…

"I'm just worried they might… panic," I explained. "They may decide we're a threat. Especially me."

"Why? Because of these?" Alice asked softly, turning to face me. As she spoke, she reached out one delicate hand to tenderly caress my neck and jaw. I didn't think her question demanded a response, so I merely locked eyes with her.

"The others will be able to see past them," Alice said, pulling her hand back to the steering wheel. "They're less obvious in the moonlight anyway. And I'm sure the situation will be less tense without Emmett and Edward there. All the more reason for us to show up now- I see those two coming back when the sun is up. But don't worry so much! Everything will turn out all right." She laughed softly. "Carlisle and Esme would probably welcome a pack of werewolves with open arms."

"And Rosalie?" I asked. Alice hesitated for a very brief second.

"She won't cause any problems," Alice answered, a bit evasively. "Besides, I can't see Esme and Carlisle alone at home by themselves anytime in the near future."

Suddenly she turned to face the open window. The incoming breeze that tossed Alice's hair around was laced with the unmistakable scent of our kind.

"Smell that?" she said excitedly. "We're getting close!"

Soon Alice spotted a road that she recognized, and we followed it into the forest. The road led us to an old, two-story, whitewashed house. Several wooden steps led up to a small porch in the front, and light shone from behind the shutters of several windows. Although Alice parked the car a good twenty yards from the front of the house, I had no doubt the inhabitants had heard us pull up.

For a moment, we sat silently in the car. Alice took my hand and gazed wordlessly at me. I smiled back at her. By concentrating on her emotions, she was conveying much more than words alone could express. Instead of merely telling me how overjoyed and grateful she was, she was letting me share those emotions, letting me experience her happiness firsthand. In response , I raised her delicate hand to my lips and kissed her fingers, keeping my eyes fixed on hers all the while. I wanted her to know the feelings were mutual. Alice's smile and elated emotions intensified even more.

Suddenly Alice's face went blank, then the ecstatic smile reappeared.

"They've decided to come out to meet us," she declared. "Let's go!"

Before I could say a single word of caution, Alice darted out of the car and stood in front of it, waiting impatiently for me to follow. With a small sigh of exasperation, I climbed out to meet her. At that instant, the front door of the house opened and three very nervous vampires filed out onto the porch.

Several things happened at once.

Alice ran to the porch, leapt up the stairs in stairs in a single bound, and flung her arms around the female with light brown hair.

The moment Alice starting heading for the porch, the tall blond female dropped into a defensive crouch, her lips pulled back in a snarl.

Meanwhile, as Alice darted towards them, I felt the nervousness of the three Cullens turn to terror. Much to my alarm, the fear was mixed with feelings of protectiveness and aggression, particularly from the blond female. I immediately sent out powerful waves of calm and lethargy, causing all three of them to relax... more or less.

"Esme!" Alice cried joyfully. Releasing her grip on Esme, Alice quickly embraced the other two."Rosalie! Carlisle! It's so good to see you all!"

"Alice," I muttered, in a low warning tone, "are you _trying_ to terrify them?"

"They aren't terrified," she laughed. "A little speechless, maybe." It was true. Now that I had forced them to relax, all three Cullens were staring at us with completely dumbfounded expressions. If I hadn't still been worried, I'd have laughed at their looks of utter bewilderment. The blond male- Carlisle, I reminded myself- was the first to find his voice again.

"Well," Carlisle began, in a mildly shocked voice, "normally, I would introduce us, but that hardly seems necessary."

"I guess we should still introduce ourselves," Alice grinned. "I'm Alice, and this is Jasper." I walked slowly forward to stand by Alice's side.

"We're… very pleased to meet you," Esme said. A shaky smile began to spread across her face.

"Yes," Carlisle agreed, sounding completely composed now. "Welcome to our home." I noticed Carlisle staring in wonder at Alice's eyes and mine. His bewilderment gradually gave way to a happy amazement.

"Why are you here?" Rosalie asked. Unlike Carlisle, Rosalie's piercing gaze lingered on the lower half of my face instead of my eyes.

"We're going to live with you!" Alice beamed.

"Er, with your permission, of course," I added quickly. Alice sent me a slightly annoyed look.

"We've been searching for you for years," Alice continued, ignoring my interruption.

"And how did you know where to find us? Or anything about us at all, for that matter?" Rosalie asked. Her polite tone belied the strong suspicion that emanated from her.

"It's a bit of a long story," Alice replied.

"Well, time is one thing we have more than enough of," Esme pointed out. "Please come in, make yourselves comfortable."

I quickly decided I liked Esme. She had what was probably the kindest emotional climate I'd ever encountered. Carlisle was an extraordinarily gentle and caring presence as well, and very calm once he was no longer concerned for his family's safely. He and Esme were clearly well suited for each other. Rosalie was another matter. Her wariness only increased as Esme led us inside to a large wooden dining room table, where several large sheets of sketch paper and a few pencils lay scattered across the polished mahogany surface.

"By the way, the kitchen is going to look amazing after you remodel it," Alice said to Esme. "The wallpaper is great idea. Though white tile would really go much better with the new cabinets."

Esme, who had been hastily gathering up the pencils and paper, froze in place and stared at Alice in astonishment. So did Rosalie and Carlisle.

"Not another one," Rosalie muttered. "Isn't one mind-reader enough?"

"Alice doesn't read minds," I chuckled, "although sometimes it can seem that way."

"What _can_ you do, then?" Esme asked as we all sat down around the table. "You're obviously talented in some way."

Everyone listened attentively while Alice explained her visions, her long search for me and then for the Cullens, and our overnight journey here after she finally managed to locate them. Without going into too much detail, I told my story as well, beginning from the time I joined the Confederate army. After all, I decided, there was no point in trying to hide the past that was so clearly written across my face. As I spoke, I did my best to ignore the emotional responses that the Cullens carefully kept out of their facial expressions- Carlisle's pity and sadness, Esme's horror and desire to comfort, Rosalie's shock and revulsion- but I couldn't block them out completely. Well, I thought, at least they were no longer curious. And they hadn't decided to send us away. Yet.

Alice, who was sitting at my side and staring intently at me, reached out below the table and laid her hand on top of mine. Glancing at her, I felt my own discomfort melt away. Suddenly, the warm emotions radiating from Alice were the only ones in the room that mattered.

"An amazing story," Carlisle commented when I had finished speaking. Beneath his calm exterior, he was almost as ecstatic as Alice. "Of course you are both very welcome here." At his side, Esme smiled warmly and nodded her agreement. Rosalie's face remained perfectly expressionless.

"I can see we don't need to explain our way of life to you," Carlisle continued, smiling at us, "but I imagine you must be curious about where _we_ came from."

"Yes, I always wondered about that," Alice replied. "I can't see anything in the past, you know."

So Carlisle gave us an abbreviated version of his own very long story, beginning with the vampire hunts in London, his transformation, suicide attempts, and eventual discovery that he could live off the blood of animals. Mentally, I couldn't help comparing his situation to mine. Although there were significant differences between our stories, I was painfully aware of the fact that Carlisle had managed to change his eye color without any outside influence. Carlisle had decided he would rather not exist at all if his existence would inevitably harm others, and it was that resolution that allowed him to accidentally uncover a third option. His choice- resolving to end his own existence rather than end the lives of others- was not something that had ever crossed _my_ mind…

I tried to abandon that train of thought as Carlisle's story moved on to the Spanish influenza epidemic in Chicago, and his encounter with Edward and Elizabeth. When he mentioned finding Esme in a morgue, Esme herself spoke up, explaining that she had leapt off a cliff after losing her only child. Though Esme spoke very matter-of-factly, beneath her calm exterior, I sensed an agonizing ache that still remained after all these years. It was a kind of pain that would never fully heal. Esme didn't seem to notice when I sent a subtle wave of comfort and peace in her direction. Carlisle moved slightly closer to Esme; I had a feeling he might be giving her the same comforting touch that Alice had given me.

After Esme had added her bit, Carlise continued the story, explaining that Rosalie had also been on the brink of death when he changed her. He didn't say why. Across the table, Rosalie stiffened slightly when she was mentioned. A mixture of painful emotions flowed from her, but she quickly tried to suppress them. However, the ache didn't fully subside until Emmett entered the story. As Rosalie herself told us about finding him, her golden eyes grew distant, and a reminiscent smile lit up her face.

I wasn't quite sure how I felt, knowing that all the Cullens, except Carlisle, had backgrounds so different from mine. On one hand, I liked to think that they'd be just as scarred as me if our positions had been reversed. On the other hand, I couldn't help feeling out of place in this house. None of them had ever known anything other than their bizarre diet. None of them had experienced a more… more natural lifestyle. Perhaps Alice belonged here, but did I?

The sky was beginning to grow light when we finally finished swapping stories. Carlisle excused himself to make a few phone calls to check on his patients. I tried not to gape at him as he headed upstairs. Alice had told me Carlisle was a doctor, but still, the idea of one of our kind working in a hospital… as a _surgeon_, of all things…. Maybe he wasn't a full vampire. I wondered if the rotting potatoes could've had some strange effect on his transformation.

"So," Alice asked abruptly, standing up from the table, "which room can we have?"

I rolled my eyes, while Esme and Rosalie stared at Alice.

"As if you don't already know," I muttered playfully. Alice grinned and nudged me with her foot.

"Just trying to be polite," she stage-whispered to me.

"Well, would you like to see what's available?" Esme asked, pretending not to have heard our little exchange. "Rosalie and I could give you a tour."

We agreed, but Alice showed little interest in the all rooms downstairs. When we reached the second floor, Alice darted ahead of us and through a door on the left. Following after her, we entered a room with a large black sofa, a record player, a wooden bookshelf filled entirely with records of all kinds, and a huge window that spanned almost the entire length of the outside wall. A breathtakingly beautiful sunrise could be seen through the glass. The pale blue sky was streaked with brilliantly colored clouds, ranging in hue from deep purple and gray to bright magenta and fiery orange. The sun had not yet risen, but the predawn light already illuminated the gravel road leading up to the house, the lush green lawn, and the surrounding forest.

"This is perfect!" Alice declared, gazing out the window. "Look at this view! Isn't it gorgeous?"

She darted over to side of the room and opened a door, revealing a spacious walk-in closet, less than half of which was filled with various items of clothing and shoes.

"What more could you want?" Alice said happily, gazing longingly at the empty clothes racks.

"Alice," I began, "this room looks like it's already occupied."

"Well… this _is_ Edward's room," Esme said, looking slightly conflicted.

"Oh, let them have it, Esme," Rosalie spoke up. She was feeling rather amused by the situation. "Edward doesn't need all this space to himself, after all. He can move into the study at the end of the hallway. There's hardly anything in there. Or that little room downstairs." She smiled brightly. "He'd be closer to his precious piano."

"I'm not sure," Esme hesitated. "Don't you think we should at least ask Edward?"

"He would let us have it," Alice assured her. "Eventually. Please, Esme?"

"I… suppose it's all right," Esme agreed at last. "Rosalie's right, Edward really doesn't need all this space to himself."

"Thank you Esme!" Alice danced to Esme's side and wrapped her tiny arms around Esme's waist. After giving me a pointed look, Alice turned to Rosalie. "Rosalie, would you mind going with me to get our things? I could use a little help carrying it all."

That wasn't true; we didn't have very many possessions. I raised a questioning eyebrow at Alice. Her golden eyes met mine, then darted meaningfully towards Esme. Meanwhile, Rosalie gazed uncertainly in my direction, obviously still distrustful. I sensed a bit of protectiveness from her as well.

"Go on, Rose," Esme urged her. "We'll start clearing out Edward's things."

"Did I mention we drove here?" Alice chimed in. "The car's only a rental, but it's fast. You can have a look if you'd like." I noticed that Alice failed to mention the pitiful state of the car's interior. Esme and Rosalie both seemed a little surprised to hear her offer.

"All right," Rosalie said hesitantly. Then, with a glance in my direction, she added, "We won't be gone long."

A few seconds after Alice and Rosalie disappeared around the corner, we heard the front door close behind them. Esme stood staring at me with a slightly confused look on her face, apparently having forgotten her plan to clear out Edward's room.

"How did Alice know about Rosalie's fascination with cars?" Esme asked. "I don't think we mentioned it earlier… .Just how much does she know about us, anyway?"

I smiled. "Well, she said that you and Carlisle would probably welcome a pack of werewolves into your home." Esme laughed, a clear, musical sound not unlike Alice's laugh.

"I can see she wasn't exaggerating," I continued, moving toward the window. Looking down, I could see Alice and Rosalie pulling suitcases out of the black rental car. Even from here, Rosalie was clearly horrified at the sight of battered upholstery inside the vehicle.

"Or I suppose I should say I can _sense_ that Alice wasn't exaggerating," I shook my head in amazement. "Most vampires would have attacked when a crazy little dark-haired stranger ran up and wrapped her arms around their neck. Yet, even without my interference, I don't think you would have tried to hurt her."

Esme laughed again. "To be honest, I was a little too shocked to move," she replied modestly, coming to stand beside me at the window. "I'd say I was more stunned than noble."

I smiled at Esme's slender presence at my side. I couldn't help noticing how completely unafraid she was.

"You've known us for a couple hours, yet you already trust us," I marveled. "Carlisle does too." I turned back towards the car, which Rosalie and Alice were still examining in the early morning light. My unspoken statement hung awkwardly in the air.

"Don't mind Rosalie," Esme said softly. "She'll come around, given enough time. She has a good heart, and she's quite likable once you get to know her. Very loyal, and caring too." Esme paused, gazing tenderly at her daughter below. "Sometimes she can be a little slow to trust others, that's all. She has her reasons."

"It's understandable," I replied with a mirthless smile. "I don't exactly look safe and trustworthy, do I?"

"Well… you _are _a bit intimidating, yes." Esme conceded, smiling at me. "But appearances can be deceiving. We're truly happy to have you here. Carlisle is especially thrilled, you know. It isn't often we find others like us."

Her words surprised me. Others like us, she'd said. Esme had placed me in the same category with her family. Her feelings were completely genuine too. I looked at her in amazement, while she watched Alice and Rosalie approach the house with our luggage. Despite everything I'd said earlier, Esme still thought I belonged here.

Rosalie and Alice entered the room only a moment later.

"I can see you two have made a lot of progress," Rosalie commented dryly, her eyes sweeping across the still fully furnished room. Alice, however, had eyes only for me.

"Oh, I'd say they have," Alice said. I felt a wave of happy satisfaction from her.

"Esme," Rosalie began, "you don't have any spare cloth, do you? Or some leather maybe? I… I _have_ to redo the interior of that car."

"No, but I'm sure we could find some," Esme grinned. Turning to us, she added, "Seeing a car in bad shape causes Rosalie physical pain."

"Then she'd better not let Jasper get his hands on one," Alice replied.

"Alice tells me you don't know how to drive?" Rosalie asked, before I had time to come up with a good response to Alice.

"I can drive," I said, a little defensively.

"Just not well," Alice added, with a teasing grin on her face. I frowned at her. If she kept this up, Rosalie might never trust me enough to let me near the cars.

"I'm really not that bad," I told Rosalie.

"When he remembers how to brake," Alice giggled.

"Alice," I protested, "that's really not fair. I have less than an hour's worth of practice!"

"I guess we'll have to fix that, won't we?" Rosalie said, a small smile appearing on her face. "We don't want our big brother causing accidents on the way to school." Our eyes met, and I returned her smile. Well, I thought, it was a start. Maybe I didn't look quite so threatening when I was being ridiculed by Alice.

"I'd appreciate that," I told her sincerely. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a self-satisfied grin appear on Alice's face.

When Alice opened the suitcases a moment later, I wandered off down the hallway, claiming I wanted to see the rest of the second floor. As much as I loved Alice, I had no desire to help her organize her closet. Besides, none of the women seemed to mind my absence. I could hear them chatting happily while they moved Edward's things downstairs to make way for ours.

I turned a corner and passed by what must be Rosalie and Emmett's room, judging by the scent. Farther down the hallway, I could hear Carlisle still on the phone, in what I assumed was his study. I was about to turn around and head back when one of the ornaments on the wall caught my attention. I did a double take. Was that what I thought it was? What on earth was an old wooden crucifix doing hanging on the wall? These Cullens were even stranger than I'd realized.

I heard a door close behind me. Carlisle had stepped out of his study, and now stood looking at me with a mildly amused expression.

"Exploring the house, I see?" he asked. "You look a little confused."

"It's an… odd choice of decoration, that's all," I shrugged, still eying the wooden ornament. The dark, smooth wood appeared to be very old.

"It used to belong to my father," Carlisle explained, stepping forward to stand beside me. "It hung above the pulpit where he preached."

"Oh," I said, relieved that I understood now. "So it's a memento. You're not actually religious." I gave a brief laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Carlisle smiled at me, and again I noticed a hint of amusement in his emotions.

"Would it be so hard to believe that I was?" he asked casually. I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

"You can't be serious!" I laughed unsurely. He must be joking. Wasn't he? Carlisle raised his eyebrows, still wearing that calm smile.

"Why not?" he asked, in a nonchalant voice, as if we were discussing something much more mundane.

"But how- That's- You're a vampire!" I finally managed to say.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," he grinned.

"In the last hundred years, I thought I'd seen it all," I muttered, shaking my head. "Clearly I was wrong."

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophies, Horatio," he quoted. I gave him an incredulous look, which he returned with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. My youngest son has a habit of quoting Shakespeare. It begins to rub off on you after thirty years."

"So, then… what exactly do you believe?" I asked.

My own belief in God was one of the many things I had given up along with my humanity. After Maria changed me, I was no longer so sure that any higher power even existed. What kind of twisted deity would create monsters like me? Besides, I had decided it didn't matter much either way. If there was an afterlife, with a heaven and hell, there was no question of where I would end up.

Carlisle shrugged. "The same thing I believed as a human, more or less."

"Why?" I asked. "Why bother? Are you hoping for some kind of favorable afterlife?"

"I am, perhaps foolishly," he responded, as laidback as ever. "But that's not why I bother. I've never seen anything to make me doubt that a God exists. Quite the contrary. And I can't ignore that simply because his existence may not bode well for me… because I must admit, the hope of a pleasant afterlife for us is a rather long shot."

How could he talk about this so casually? He almost sounded cheerful. I turned my gaze from the crucifix to Carlisle. His golden eyes reminded me of Alice's. I could hear her talking and laughing with Rosalie and Esme as they transported all Edward's possessions into the garage and refurnished the room with our things. I hadn't given much thought to this particular issue in all my years as an immortal. But of course, I'd never had Alice to think of before.

"I don't see how you can cling to this," I mused, "but I hope that you're right. I like to think that there's some hope for you and your… family." I smiled. "For monsters like Alice."

"Why do you exclude yourself?" he asked. "If there is hope for us, as unlikely as that may be, would there not be some for you as well?"

"I'm a rather different kind of monster, I'm afraid," I answered quietly, looking away from him. I winced slightly as an image of my most recent victim flashed through my mind: the young mother with the photograph. I quickly shoved the mental picture aside. "My hands are far too bloody."

"Yet your eyes are no different from ours," Carlisle pointed out gently.

"Changing my colors now does not erase a century of crimson," I replied softly, with a sad smile. I glanced down and noticed my bare forearms. No matter how many pieces of clothing I wore to cover the scars, nothing would ever remove them either. "I could not possibly atone for it. If there's any higher power that cares at all about justice, I would never deserve its pardon."

"True," Carlisle agreed. "But maybe love and forgiveness are not always things we earn. Perhaps sometimes they can be given even to the undeserving."

I let his words sink in without giving a reply. I still didn't believe this strange old one. But then an image of Alice appeared in my mind. I remembered how she had listened to my history that day in the clearing without flinching or turning away. I thought of the way she had spent years trying to find me, and how her emotions had seemed to warm the very air around me from the first moment I'd met her. I thought of the way she still loved me in spite of all my flaws, past and present. I certainly had done nothing to deserve _her_ love…. I wondered if there might be a small grain of truth to Carlisle's far-fetched ideas after all.

The front door slammed shut, and I heard Alice light footsteps racing down the hallway towards us.

"Jasper!" she called out. "Our room's ready now, come and see! Carlisle is about to be called into the hospital anyway." She added the last bit in an off-hand manner, as she eagerly took hold of my arm.

Carlisle looked a bit taken aback by this announcement. I laughed to finally see the calm expression disappear from his face.

"You'll get used to it," I assured him. Just then, the phone rang in his study.

"First a mind-reader, now this?" he muttered to himself as he stepped inside to answer the call. "Hello? Yes… Of course. Not at all. Tell them I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He hung up, and smiled weakly at Alice. "Impressive. A talent like yours is certainly something I never expected to see."

"There are more things in heaven and earth…" I began, wearing a sly grin on my face. Carlisle laughed as he gathered a few items to take with him. Alice, who was still latched onto my arm, was growing more impatient by the second.

"Come _on_!" she grinned, tugging me around the corner and into the remodeled room. Esme and Rosalie were nowhere to be seen.

"Um, Alice?" I asked. "Are you sure Edward won't mind us moving into his room?"

"Oh, he will," Alice said with an evil grin. I laughed and sat down on a couch beside the window, pulling Alice down with me. She was lighter than a feather on my lap. Outside, the morning sun shone through the clouds. Beams of light passed through the glass and danced across Alice's face and arms.

"So, what do you think?" she asked. Her beautiful face was a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors, forming new patterns of brilliant hues every time she moved.

"About the room?" I shrugged. "I'm sure it looks wonderful. I haven't really noticed it, though." I traced a line down her sparkling cheek. "You're a little too distracting."

Alice laughed, then gently pulled my face toward hers so that our lips met. Sometimes my talent had its drawbacks. This was not one of them. On my own, I was already overflowing with emotion. But with Alice's love and joy combining with my own, with the doubled intensity of our twin passions, every other thought and sensation faded away from my mind. For one timeless moment, there was no past. There were no haunting memories, no guilt and self-doubt, no other desires, nothing but the amazing being I held in my arms. What did she see in me? I would never deserve her, nor would I ever be able to let her go.

Time became completely irrelevant as I sat there with her, savoring her emotions. Alice's happiness was usually of a dancing, bubbly variety, like a sparkling fountain leaping high into the air. Today however, she felt more like a smooth, peaceful river flowing steady and deep.

"You're unusually happy," I murmured, absently stroking her soft black hair.

"Am I usually unhappy?" she laughed quietly.

"No," I smiled, "that's not what I meant. You're happy, but in an unusual way."

"Oh?" she asked. "And how's that?"

"It isn't a buoyant kind of happiness," I replied. "It's more peaceful. Content."

Instead of replying, she rested her head and one tiny hand against my chest, closing her eyes as I wrapped my arm around her delicate shoulders. She took a deep, slow breath and snuggled closer against me.

"It's good to be home," she whispered.

I gazed down at her, memorizing the expression on her face. If I hadn't known better, I would have assumed she was deep asleep, enjoying some pleasant dream. Alice had never felt quite this way before, although there had been a similar sense of fulfillment emanating from her when she found me in Philadelphia.

I thought of how Carlisle had introduced himself and his family. They each had their own story, stretching back to their human lives. They remembered their last names, their birthplaces, their families and the events leading up to their transformation. They remembered who they had been. Even I had a past to call my own, dark though it might be. For better or worse, I realized, most people based much of their identity on where they came from. Alice never had that option. I'd been so worried about how she would react to learning about my history that I had never given much thought to her lack of history. What would it be like, I wondered, to wake up completely alone, without the faintest idea of who you were? To not know where you came from, or where you belonged?

I gently kissed her forehead, and held her tighter. Alice had saved me in so many ways. I had never wondered whether she might have needed to be found just as badly as I had.

_"ROSALIE! ESME! CARLISLE!"_ a deep male voice thundered so violently that I half-expected the walls to start shaking. "_Who put all my things in the garage?"_

Needless to say, this outburst shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the room. Alice opened her eyes again, and her face broke into a grin as she looked up at me.

"Sounds like Edward's home," I chuckled. "Shall we go meet the rest of our family?"

Alice's smile grew even brighter.

"What did you just say?" she asked softly. I wrapped my arms around her again, pulling her close against my chest once more. I could hear Emmett laughing downstairs, no doubt amused by the idea of Edward being kicked out of his own room.

"Our family," I repeated. For the first time, the phrase had seemed… appropriate. "Sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"Very," Alice agreed. Then she stood up and pulled me with her towards the door, full of mischievous excitement. "Come on! I want to see the look on Edward's face when we tell him he has to relocate."

I laughed and followed her down the stairs of our new home.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it! Have I mentioned that getting feedback makes me extremely happy?

IMPORTANT: If you did like this, I never actually said this was the _end_. I said this was the last update. There's a difference! Back when I started writing this (totally out of order and with no intention of posting it), the story ended with A Climate I Enjoy, which I, um, have already posted as a oneshot. Back before I understood the rules of fanfiction, I planned to post A Climate I Enjoy as a oneshot and as the final chapter of Climate Change. Now, I don't want to incur the wrath of the site administrators by posting it twice.

The point? If you haven't read A Climate I Enjoy, go read it! (If you want to, of course.) I'm not really sure whether to call it a sequel, prequel or companion, but it's definitely meant to be read along with Climate Change! And if you've already read it, well, you can always go read it again. :-)


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